


It All Started With The Penis Game

by lilybookworm



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Also kinf of anti-rachel?, Better happens to be Sebastian, Blaine is a dick potentially becomes a bigger dick?, F/F, F/M, I kind of can't stand her, Kurt actually works through the Karofsky trauma, Kurt deserves better, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Sibling Abuse, anyone wanna beta?, penis game, this is my first fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-11-23 17:27:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11407107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilybookworm/pseuds/lilybookworm
Summary: “Penis,” the hiss of the word was quiet in the luxurious Dalton Library and the fact that the chuckles of the boys currently playing the penis game were louder still at this point then the actual word made his eye rolls without his permission.In which Kurt is an unknown at Dalton and Sebastian and his friends ruin that with the Penis Game.





	1. Nick and Jeff weren't actually lackeys.

**Author's Note:**

> So.... this is my first foray into the whole Fic thing. Honestly, it probably sucks? I don't really know what I'm doing... I don't normally write fiction. You want a psychology paper or a soc paper with a focus on gender studies? I'm your gal. This is new and if it sucks and you wanna let me know? Please do. Honestly, I don't care I've just had this idea stuck in my head for awhile and I feel like the story line has potential... If it turns out people are interested please send me a Beta reader. I would love that.

Kurt fed the end of his red highlighter into his mouth to keep from shouting in frustration.

Kurt Elizabeth Hummel was new at Dalton Academy and with sheer luck and determination he managed to keep under the radar. He thus far did nothing to draw attention to himself.

He didn’t join the warblers.

He didn’t speak out.

For once in his life he just existed without any worries other than keeping his partial scholarship, which considering his life thus far wasn’t much as far as stressors were concerned.

He stayed invisible and frankly, it was a welcome break, although the school counselor he was seeing regularly seemed worried because this was not typical Kurt Behavior. This was according to the records she had requested from both Mrs. Pillsbury, and from Dr. Harper, the therapist he was forced to see regularly from the time of his mother’s death until the time his father suggested to him that he was acting more himself.

Blending in wasn’t something Kurt did easily or something he usually did willingly but at this point in life he wanted nothing more than to be invisible. This was shocking to most people who knew him but it was something that gave him peace currently. No one seemed to understand his current feelings and how he was handling his former bully sexually assaulting him or threatening his life. He didn’t know anybody here at Dalton and it was both lonely but also calm and quiet. In a certain way is was safe and warm like snuggling up to his mother with a blanket while she read French fairy tales to him had been. It had was providing a comfort as sweet as her lilting accent as she taught him the words had been. It was a welcome change of pace.

He could focus on his studies and think about his future.

Most of the time.

“Penis,” the hiss of the word was quiet in the luxurious Dalton Library and the fact that the chuckles of the boys currently playing the penis game were louder still at this point then the actual word made his eye rolls without his permission.

He forced himself to remain calm and took the highlighter out of his mouth and took it to the printed pages he had to read through for his research paper in APUSH.

His lips pursed and he went through the papers and he hated himself a little for thinking about his brother Finn ribbing him and telling him how maybe he could get a boyfriend at his new gay school, and how Puck, Finn’s heterosexual life mate, was constantly making comments about how he was surprised he had managed to stay under the radar at said gay school given the fact that he was flaming, and didn’t gay guys go for the girly boy vibe he was giving off?

Never mind the fact that it wasn’t a fucking gay school.

Kurt let his eyes shutter closed as he tried to refocus himself.

“Penissss,” the word was drawn out like a snake’s hiss and Kurt grit his teeth in an effort to remain calm and not scream. He felt like bashing his head into the table and bitterly reminded himself that it would ruin his skin. The potential brain damage wasn’t a big a deterrent as it should have been.

He shot a glare at the table of unobservant boys who didn’t even know he existed let alone realized he was occupying the library along with them.

Sebastian Smythe, a boy in his year, was smirking at the head of the table; he was one of the actual gay boys attending the school. He was captain of the Dalton Lacrosse team and one of the main soloists in the warblers. He was gorgeous, arrogant and awful and playing the stupid penis game with two of his stupid lackeys.

Kurt scrunched his nose, admitting that the last part of his thought wasn’t entirely fair. Nick and Jeff weren’t actually lackeys. They were a rather sweet pair of boys who were also in the warblers and seemed at ease with making friends with anyone. Kurt had made it a game with himself in trying to figure out if the pair were dating or not and he was currently losing. He was constantly changing his mind on if they were a thing or not.

“Penis,” Kurt swiped a hand over his face, the damn game had been going on for well over 5 minutes and they were still at this irritatingly quiet level that suggested to him the game would take a very long time to be done.

He licked his lips and with a nearly inaudible sigh he began typing notes on his laptop in regard to his outline. He finally zoned into his work for a brief time as he started writing in notes about Spanish and french exploration. It wasn’t much longer before the word Penis filtered yet again into his ears accompanied with a round of giggles and laughs that were yet again far louder than the damn word. It had ripped him from his work yet again and Kurt’s frustration was rising yet again.

It was frustrating and rude and while he realized the boys probably didn’t notice him it was still just as rude to the others in the library. Not that any of them seemed to care. Sebastian was a god among men, and he was only a junior.

He kept typing with a shake of his head and it boggled his mind how after another ten minutes passed that a librarian had been away so long that the standstill of the stupid whisper yells of ‘penis’ were still going on.

“Penis!” Sebastian looked so damned smug and amused and he was truly an idiot and it was enough.

It was fucking _enough_.

 He was done with the stupidity. 

Kurt was just fucking done and he quickly grabbed his now packed bag and stalked over to the table, seeing red over this stupid little petty thing and slamming his hands on the table with a resounding sound filling the room. He had the attention of nearly everyone in the library.

“PENIS!” Kurt yelled it loudly making direct and defiant eye contact with the green-eyed lax player. With a shake of his head and a huff, he stalked proudly out of the room with the slam of the door echoing in the room, not knowing that Sebastian’s eyes were following his rather full ass, or that the whole of the library was questioning who the hell he was.

None more so than Sebastian himself who felt a stirring of interest for the effeminate boy and was the only one to voice the thought of everyone in the room, “Who was that?”

* * *

 

            Kurt was still muttering to himself in anger he closed the door to his single room, the only room available to any student being admitted this late in the year. He threw himself on the bed with puff of noise leaving his mouth on impact. His brow was furrowed and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get it to smooth out.

He rolled over so he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling briefly before he thought about how he might be wrinkling his uniform and a brief moue formed in his lips as he forced himself up to change into his pajamas and he carefully put his uniform away.

Returning to his bed he thought back to that fateful day he somehow managed to infiltrate the Dalton Academy with a sweet smile, an inaccurate uniform and a basket full of homemade chocolate croissants for the guard. He remembers seeming to blend into the walls and how both upsetting and wonderful it felt at the time. He remembers finding the warblers a little after their number had started and as he was hidden by several other boys watching the performance he managed to keep from being seen by the performers who seemed to see everything. The performance itself was like a battle. There was clearly a lot of talent but it was very much a competition which made for a rather interesting mash-up.

A short but solid boy who had a rather powerhouse voice was the one singing when he had joined the group of spectators.  It seemed in that moment that Finn might be right and he wondered briefly if it was in fact a gay school because all the boys were fawning over the overly hair gelled boy belting out Teenage Dream by Katy Perry. Kurt has rolled his eyes at the song choice, because really, how corny? Also, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, New Directions ran Katy Perry into the ground for him. It wasn’t cute or romantic, it was overdone and overhyped. It was over exposed. When he heard the term “sex-on-a-stick” in reference to Blaine, the tiny dynamo, he really couldn’t contain the snort that erupted into the room. He had quickly moved through the spectators in the back weaving in and out so he was on the other side and he managed to avoid eye contact or being seen by the taller one with green eyes who had tried to find the source of snorted amusement. When he couldn’t find it he just winked at few of the boys and with a smirk responded to the darker haired warbler with an unexpected song choice, Uptown Girl by Billy Joel.

Kurt smiled against his will. He had to hand it to the tall one, it was a good choice, even if the other students seemed a bit confused. It was very clear to Kurt that this population didn’t see it as appropriately competitive. A fleeting question on if the green eyed one was gay/straight/bi/etc entered his mind. He was cute. In an arrogant preppy way. It reminded him of a kid at his school named Archer who honestly wanted to start a high school frat. Kurt still wasn’t over that. It was kind of amazing that the prep school boy somehow seemed less pretentious than that kid. Which was saying something because this guy oozed money which honestly made the song choice kinda funny, he was clearly the guy who could afford pearls and lived the white bread life.

The shorter, overly hair gelled one was sort of cute in a lost puppy way. One that screamed he needed attention on him at all times and he reminded Kurt of those soppy positivity messages like post-its on lockers and walls with messages like, “Have Courage,” and “You’re beautiful!”. It was kinda gross and to be perfectly honest the boy looked more high maintenance then Kurt was. He could mentally hear his brother and friends being shocked at him being so… discerning as opposed to instantly crushing on both boys singing lead. He could also hear Finn warning him off the tall one which meant he was probably straight as straight could get and truly great at performing. The tall one looked like he was about to find him so Kurt decided to make a game of keeping himself hidden. He snickered a little when noticing the tall one’s frustration at the room’s lack of enthusiasm with his song choice. Sebastian, he learned through whispers, was kinda in the right. He was doing something fun and charming and he was doing it well. It clearly wasn’t enough for this crowd though. He quickly found a darker corner to duck into when Sebastian nearly made eye contact with him during his next sweep of smirks and winks.

Both boys were great vocally, he thought perhaps Blaine was a bit too over the top, a little to Rachel Barbara Berry for his tastes and Sebastian… he had too much potential. Both were clearly performance oriented and the boys in the background were all too good at matching pitch and they were perfect with their harmonies.

That wasn’t good for New Directions.

Not at all.

Then again with the way things were going with them, anyone could probably beat them. Suddenly Kurt was tired and before the songs had a chance to finish he was sneaking out of the school and heading toward his navigator. He was suddenly overwhelmed as he sat in his baby. He stayed still and just breathed before a panic attack could set on and calmed himself down.

He was going to be a shot messenger for the New Directions and he knew it.

With the knowledge of this he turned on his car and started the drive home.

That all seemed so long ago now. It wasn’t long after that he was harassed within an inch of his life, sexually assaulted and his life threatened. He still had to send Coach Sue a large package of her favorite protein powder as a thanks for the recommendation letter to the Headmaster. It was surprising that given their friendship she wasn’t a teacher a Dalton. Not as bg of one when you took into account that there wasn’t a competitive cheer leading team here and she’d put in so much to whip her Cheerios into shape.

He lay awake in bed grateful that Friday was over and he could sleep. Even with the essay looming over his head he found sleep fast.

* * *

 

A sharp bing startled him making him jolt upward in bed. It was not the nicest wake up call. It was the weekend and he just wanted to nap, damnit. Granted he hadn’t been up long before he decided to nap but still.

 He swallowed and grabbed his phone.

There weren’t that many people who would be messaging him, but he was still surprised anyone messaged him at all. He figured out of sight out of mind would break his friendships down further.

Apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Quinn apparently needed him around.

From **Queen Quinn** :

The mall in 15 minutes. I expect you'll be on time.

To **Queen Quinn** :

I LOVE how you don't even ask me. You just command me to come over there.

From **Queen Quinn** :

15 minutes.

To **Queen Quinn** :

Whatever Quinnie

From **Queen Quinn:**

If you don't show up I'll send Santana and sic her on you.

To **Queen Quinn** :

Whatever no need to send satan to do your bidding.

He groaned. He didn’t have much time to get ready and get there. He almost contemplated putting his uniform back on before he blanched at the thought. Like he’d wear that tacky uniform in public.

With that thought in mind he opened up his closet and put on his Alexander Mcqueen Lace Skull button down with Oxblood colored skinny jeans an open cut black blazer and a pair of soft brown suede shoes. He grabbed his bag, wallet and keys and realized there was truly no time to do his hair and realized he nearly forgot a belt. Honestly, Quinn expected to much of him but the prospect of Santana coming here and causing for drama for him was not an idle threat and not something he really relished the idea of.

With that in mind he sped out his door, grateful it was Saturday. He made his way discreetly through the halls and down the staircase. Finn always described him as catlike with how quiet he could be. It was truly a gift in a place like this. He noticed that not a lot of students were milling about and any that were there were dressed casually out of uniform and ready to head out or were getting back in.

He felt a giddiness rise in him as he got closer to his Nav, honestly shopping sounded like just the thing he needed.

As he started to pull out of the parking lot he didn’t notice a pair of eyes watching him.


	2. A brewing of a torrential storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first off thank you to everyone who left kudos and left me comments telling me to continue. Still hoping for a beta! Let me know. Also... Whoops? Cause apparently this story is going to be a very slow burn? Like not what I originally had in mind but well that's out the window and there is ZERO Sebastian in this chapter. Which again isn't what I originally knew was going to happen but apparently Kurt is going to get some intense back story? Seb will most likely as well?

The Nav was parked in the lot and Kurt sat there. The minutes had ticked by and it was definitely past 15 minutes at this point and yet here he sat. There was a line of tension in his shoulders and his hands lay in his lap where they fiddled nervously.

It was so… busy. The lot was full and seemed to just be filling up further. He hadn’t done shopping in such a public setting in a while, having satisfied any urges with the easy access of online shopping.

The logical part of his brain was attempting to soothe the frenetic worry of his mind like he was a trembling woodland creature.

It was pathetic.

“Get out of the car Kurt. Satan will be out for blood if you don’t go meet them. Get out of the car. Let’s not make things worse for you buy turning the Unholy Trinity against you. Get. Out.”

The forceful commands he gave himself did nothing. He stayed oh so still, and oh so grateful that his car has tinted windows.

It was a Saturday and this was a _mistake._

Everyone was inside. Well, it felt like everyone was inside and Oh, God…

What if they brought people from Glee who still had questions? Eww, or what if they ran into Rachel?

This was a risk and he didn’t understand why he was freaking out. He hadn’t been purposely avoiding stores. He was fine. Honestly, he’d gone through worse than the assault and even the death threat.

He was being ridiculous. He was pathetic. He was NOT this weakling that was sitting in this car, damnit. He wasn’t. He was going to get out of the car… just as soon as he stopped the rabbiting nature of his heartbeat.

“Hey Porcelain!” The rapping of thin dark knuckles on his window brought his startled and now even more ratcheted heart beat to the dark skinned Latina who was forceful in getting his attention.

“Hello? Gonna get out of the car?” there was bite to her tone, clearly impatience and he reflexively blinked and swallowed before nodding. He pushed his door open and Santana stepped back waiting for him as he exited his car.  

“Hey,” his voice was oddly breathy and Santana raised a brow and gave him a critical stare before deciding to not bother asking. It wouldn’t get her far. At least not right now.

“Come on Baby Gay, the Queen is waiting,” as the paired moved forward Santana rolled her eyes, “Look, I’m not going to bug you about whatever it is that made you run away. I’m actually trying to be nice.”

“Thanks… I think.” That caused a pause in the girl’s steps and without thinking she grabbed his arm.

“You think?” The offense in her tone was bleak and Kurt was more than a little uncomfortable with the grip on his arm. Even as small as she was he felt a mild amount of murre roil in his stomach. He said nothing, just looked at her before quickly looking away his legs shifting about in discomfort, the anxiety of this moment just too much for him to keep still. The urge to run away made him want to throw up.

Santana’s shrewd eyes made sweeping analysis of his body. She didn’t recognize this version of Kurt, this was a whole new beast and frankly she was uncomfortable. Regular, snarky Kurt she could handle. Regular Kurt who could have been related to the Unholy Trinity with his bitchiness and sass and his ability to cut you with words without a spare glance.

“Are you okay?” The words were stilted and brittle in the air, these were not words spoken often by this person’s mouth. Kurt glances quickly at her and before there can be some gross moment of further weakness on his part his spine straightens and like a wash of new paint on wall he’s suddenly different. A hard-exterior mask projecting him for who everyone knows him to be.

“Obviously.” The word is a harsh purr spoken with condescension and superiority.  His eyes give her a quick once over that suggest he finds something lacking. With that he starts walking with a huff.

Normally Santana wouldn’t have let anyone get away with that, but damn, Kurt knew how to give a good show. She was actually impressed. With a slight nod to her head and quick narrowing of her eyes she started moving along with him, quickly catching up to him.

“Welcome back.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye knowing that she was paying attention to him even if it didn’t seem like it and he gave a short curt nod before the entered the incredibly busy mall.

Quinn sat in the congested mall with all the regal quality that Kurt’s nickname for her required. It truly was a befitting nickname. She shouldn’t have been able to pull off the regal quality sitting near a Hot Dog on a Stick and that one family owned restaurant that overcompensated by giving away about five zillion free samples.

“You’re late.” Her face was frozen in smooth perfection. Her face was both blank and unimpressed.

“You gave an unacceptable time limit.” Her eyebrow raised.

“You actually live somewhat near here, my time limit was more than generous,” when Kurt made to argue she raised her hand up to stop him, “No, we’re not arguing. You’re here, finally and that’s what matters. Sit.”

Again with the commands. Kurt sneered at her as he followed her order.

“So what’s with the command of my presence, Q?” his question brokered no argument, he wasn’t going to stay without a good answer.

“We haven’t seen you in a while. I figured it was time to rectify that little issue.” It was his turn to raise a brow at her answer.

“We aren’t friends.” It was a statement of fact not opinion. Kurt didn’t really consider most of his former glee companions friends. Not really.

“Okay, don’t think you think you’re being a little dramatic.” The wave of a dark arm nearly hit him in the face and Quinn was practically squirming in dissatisfaction.

“Hey, Satan, let’s not hit me in the face.” Santana just looked over at him a blank expression on her face that read like the word ‘really?’

“Look, I admit, we haven’t been the most supportive,” Kurt scoffed and Quinn pursed her lips before continuing, “believe what you want, but you know I did actually miss you.”

“Oh, really?” Quinn’s eyes were wide in anger.

“Yes, is that so hard to believe?” He blinked at her question.

“Yes.” Because it was. Because it is. Because they weren’t friends and over the course of their lives together in Lima, Ohio she had made it very clear that he didn’t matter.

As did everyone really.

She looked at him so stunned and even Santana was looking at him like he grew another head. But, damnit, he was right. No one in that godforsaken school, hell town cared about him save his father and Coach Sylvester, which he was still getting used to. That soft spot would probably follow him for a while.

He was a nobody, a freak and a punching bag, a literal dummy for abuse to the people of Lima.

“I don’t understand why you’re looking at me like that. You know I’m right. We may all refer to ourselves as friends but we aren’t. You guys don’t care about me. You guys barely even notice me and when you guys do somehow I’m doing something wrong, or I’m being thrown into a dumpster or treated like a fucking leper because I’m gay. The only ones who have been nicer than just leaving me alone for the most part are Sam, Mercedes, and Brittany.”

They were both shock still their faces having taken on a paler hue while Kurt just stared at his hands his normally soft cherubic face was bitter and so much darker than they knew it capable. He was bitchy and snarky yes, but never this storm cloud in their presence.

Quinn made quick eye contact with Santana as she swallowed lightly and licked her lips. Her brows furrowed in determination.

“Then we’re fixing that.” At his scoff her spine straightened even further, “Look, I can’t change the past, none of us can. I can’t treat past Kurt differently, it’s not in the cards and that’s not how life works… but I did miss you. You can choose to believe it or not, but I did, I do. You were always someone I could commiserate with, you always understood when I felt like everyone else was stupid. Maybe I was a bitch,” At his bitch face she cleared her throat, “Okay, so I was a massive bitch. Whatever, not the point. Look, I learned a lot when I had to give up my baby and I you don’t quite get how much something means to you until it’s gone.”

There was a long pause as she scrunched her nose up in distaste.

“God, I sound like a fucking fortune cookie. Look let’s not make this any cheesier and soppier than it needs to be.” Santana nodded her head fiercely in intense agreement.

“I think what Q is getting at is that we are going to be your friends, for real. We obviously aren’t including the rest of the club in this agreement but WE,” she gestured toward herself before flapping a hand inelegantly toward Quinn, “are in it. For real. We are your real friends now. This isn’t some prank. We get that something happened. Lima kids don’t just end up at schools like Dalton for no reason, _especially_ with how much that ish costs.”

His eyes searched them both, he wasn’t an idiot and he could sense when these two professional liars were duping people. He took pride in his ability to be able to discern them when no one else could. Sure, everyone could assume but he always knew when these two were actually sincere. He looked at both of them searching for any amount of falseness hidden inside and he bit the inside of his lip when he saw none.

Regardless of the fact that they were being genuine he felt the uncomfortable itch of doubt and the heaviness of all his inadequacy issues weigh down on top of him. He felt so vulnerable because as much as he could see them, they could see him too.

What if they left? What if this wasn’t as solid an offer as they believed it to be? What if at the end of the day they got to know him, the real him and they hated him? What if they found out all that happened and sided with Karofsky and what if they went back to their old ways.

His throat felt like it was tightening up and it was just so much. He couldn’t keep eye contact with them anymore and it was just a lot. He was good at being alone. He knew how to handle  that.

This? This was some unnecessary stimulation and it was uncomfortable and just too much just like all the chatter around them. He knew in his heart he would get so deeply attached if they let him and he had the potential to be a greater friend than anyone gave him credit for. Dr. Harper always said he was highly sensitive and his façade to the rest of his peers kept him feeling in control but he just wasn’t built to be anything less than what he was.

He could hear the childhood taunts of everyone telling him he was too sensitive and that he took things too personally, that he was a crybaby pounding away in his head. He knew the girls were waiting for an answer and he could feel himself getting worked up so he closed his eyes and attempted to focus in on five things he could feel, taste, and hear. He felt himself come back and as much as he wanted to say no in order to protect himself he couldn’t do it. God, he yearned for real friendship.

Something he previously thought he had had with Mercedes but that friendship seemed Fairweather at best.

His skin was lacking its normal rosy glow and the girls were looking at him in intense concern as it seemed he was so deeply thinking about their offer.

It took several moments before he looked up and felt the incredible tension that was palpable in the air.

He opened his mouth slightly to talk before closing it with a soft snap along with his eyes and once again tried and with one word it was done.

“Okay.”

Santana gave a stunning and genuine smiling while Quinn graced them both with her perfect smile that always seemed to make her seem to angelic.

“Alright! Now for the most important reason for being here,” a teasing edge came out of Quinn’s mouth, “Let’s shop! I need a new outfit. So, does Tana, actually let’s be real Snix needs a whole new wardrobe and you my sweet BabyDoll are going to dress us with all your wise fashion knowledge.” Her smile was gleaming and dazzling and when he looked at her just right she realized that she was making herself just as vulnerable for him and looking at Santana he saw the same within her as well.

“While I won’t deny the truth of both those statements I have to ask, Where is Brit?” He had to say it was really weird to see Satan without her childlike companion. Santana gave a weak smile and sighed clearly not completely at ease.

“Look, I love my girl and all that but let’s be honest I’m not sure the seriousness of this conversation would have worked well with her here. She’s great, she’s wonderful but she would have broken the clearly very necessary tension.” Kurt looked at her and knew to drop the subject, that wasn’t the whole of the truth if she believed it at all, but he knew they weren’t ready to show all of their soft spots to each other.

So instead he shrugged,

“Alright. Let’s go then.” With that sentence, they all stood up and started walking away from the food court.

“So, how’s French at the new school?” Quinn’s arm looped her arm through his and he hummed in thought.

“Honestly, it’s great, way further ahead than McKinley… Hey Satan how come you never took French?”  She cast a shrewd side and impish smirk.

“Please. Like I’m gonna miss out on the easy A that is being fluent in Spanish. It’s not like Schue isn’t easy without the fluency.”

“Fair point.”

“So, you like the new school?” he glanced back at Quinn and nodded.

“Yeah, I mean it’s a little lonely but I really like it.” Her lips formed a moue and her eyebrows closed inward in confusion.

“You haven’t made any friends?”

“Um, no, not really.”

Quinn and Santana both made to say something, an interrogation clearly ready to begin, and that’s when he saw them, two sets of them really. Two sets of people on opposite ends and both coming toward them.

On one there was Nick and Jeff and Jeff was pointing at him and talking to Nick.

On the other end was Karofsky and Azimo and the rest of the puck heads, who thankfully hadn’t noticed him yet.

The girls had stopped along with him in their walk and just looked at him in confusion. It was also so very suffocating in this moment.

It was hot in the mall. Was anyone else hot? Oh, god.

His heart was racing and his palms were starting to sweat and please just please don’t notice him.

He could feel himself start to shake. This was the last thing he wanted or could handle. Puffs of air were barely making it’s way out of his mouth. His breathing was just getting shallower and fuck it.

He dipped out quickly, creating a maze between him and them with other people as he sought refuge to hide.

Quinn and Santana were chasing after him but had obviously cottoned on to the fact that he surely did not want anyone to see him.

He headed into Macy’s and found a small space to crawl into between some shelving and a wall. He slumpt down and the panic was like being unable to move in freezing water. Bracing and terrifying.

It was there suddenly. The weight of everything he was avoiding currently.

God, Karaofsky. He really, _really_ , did not need to see him. And just as that thought came he knew he couldn’t handle thinking about him.

He scrunched his eyes shut and his fists were at his temples pressing in and his body pressed into itself trying to make himself smaller while he tried to get a hold of himself.

Nick and Jeff, ugh. This was awful. All that time spent trying to avoid being noticed and he had fucked it all up so easily and so fast and FUUUUUUCK he was Sebastian Smythe’s radar. Potentially. Maybe he forgot about him even if Nick and Jeff hadn’t? No matter what he was a little screwed.

Or a lot screwed.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh, God.

* * *

 

Quinn and Santana found him in a corner stuffed small and tight. He was trying and failing to breathe.

Quinn was the first to break out of her stupor and quickly settled down next to him. She grasped his arm.

“Kurt! I need you to breathe. Fuck, okay, um trying and match it to my counts okay?” she pulled his face over toward her so that he was looking at her and over the wheezing sound that he was making in attempts to breathe she started counting.

Santana could only watch. She had never seen Kurt anything less than perfectly put together, even in his vulnerable moments, even when he was less than sure of himself he was always just as regal and put together as Quinn.

She just stood there unable to help and he and Quinn started to match breathing once again.

He was near tears, something else she hadn’t known he was fully capable of doing and she knew that her friendship with this boy would become something integral to her. Something binding and unbreakable.

Something she didn’t really have outside of Quinn.

With that knowledge, she turned on her heel.

There would be hell to pay for anyone who fucked with Kurt and she was on the prowl.

She was going to find out everything, and when she did she knew that she would, with Quinn’s help rain down havoc and pain for those who had crossed their friend.

She almost felt bad, because she knew that lives would be near ruin if she had it her way.

Very little was likely to hold her back from the torrential storm that was brewing inside her, one that was only expected to get stronger and more intense.

But right now, she had some people to spy on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for rambling earlier... Do you guys want a Bas focused chapter? Do you even want me to continue?


	3. Bambi Blue Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks so much everyone for your sweet messages, kudos and bookmarks! I am so overwhelmed by just how positively this story is being received! Firstly! Can we also please just appreciate the wonderful human that is my lovely new Beta? They are short_stuff1491. So, if you can please send some love her way! Also, This chapter is from Sebastian's point of view. I hope you guys enjoy it, because I loved writing from his point of view and I think we might end up with more Bas chapters in the future. Also, please see the end notes because I have questions for you guys. ALSO!!! It's going to be a few days before I post a new chapter, there will be a bigger delay in a chapter because I'm taking some summer credits and I have two essays coming up... so... school has to take the priority seat on this one. Sorry guys.

Sebastian ran a hand through his wet hair with a grimace. He was late. He abhorred being late to anything. People could talk about his cavalier attitude all they wanted but he was nothing if not punctual and he was raised well enough to know that he should be on time. Being Fashionably late was crap as far as he was concerned. If he was going to be late he might as well not show up at all. Which is why he was much more likely to ditch things than ever end up somewhere late.

Still, this was just a meeting among friends and it wasn’t his fault he was going to be so late.

The shitty thing, he thought, about being at a private boarding school was that, at the end of the day, because you live there, your weekends really weren’t always your own. When your coach tells you that you’re having practice early Saturday morning it means you’re having practice early Saturday morning. When you could be doing more pleasurable activities. Like sleeping in or getting your dick sucked.

Still, he wasn’t blaming being late on lacrosse practice. He was the fucking captain, and other than sex few things could get his blood pumping and get him excited the way lacrosse did. Coach Langston said he was ruthless and a true leader, and he made sure that his coach never had reason to suggest anything else was true.

The person at fault was Parker Flemings. He was a whiny little troglodyte. Honestly, he was an idiot, a bitter one and he probably wouldn’t have ever even been accepted into Dalton had it not been for parents’ ridiculous donations, which came on top of the tuition. Parker was a greedy bastard and he really needed to get over the fact that he wasn’t captain, a _lways_ having to try and cause problems just because he was a senior and he felt he wasn’t given the title he deserved. The truth was Parker was a mediocre defender at best, and when it came to making sure that Sebastian was able to do his job, he was even worse

Then he has the fucking audacity to try and call him out when they finally finish? No, Fuck that guy. Sebastian is the opposite of a shitty player and frankly he wanted that guy to sit and spin on a fucking tree trunk.

Seriously, screw Parker and his consistent efforts to undermine him.

It was fucking annoying.

So instead of showering when he was initially supposed to, he had to deal with a Neolithic troll taking a swing at him just because he wasn’t going to lie down and take the insults.

Then a fucking meeting with Langston all because of that absolute dickhead.

Sebastian was more than a little pissed, he was sweaty and tired and already so fucking done.

He also hadn’t had a chance to go talk to the pretty blue-eyed dude, with an even prettier ass, because he’d been too far away.

So, he finally sees the fucking mystery kid who won the penis game, and he didn’t get to do anything he’d been wanting to with him. A. Confront him B. hit on him D. fuck him.

I mean he probably could have even learned the kid’s name at some point if he’d done any of those three things.

Sebastian guaranteed that with his ass, and all that anger that could brew inside that tight little body he’d be a truly great lay. Sebastian could do with some above average rolling in the sack.

And that little twink? He was _made_ for rolling in the sack.

He’d probably have to do some convincing with him; he had such a sweet little baby face. Kid probably wanted his prince charming.

Well, Sebastian would just have to convince him that his dick was prince charming and he could ride it off into the sunset.

Sebastian didn’t believe in fairytales.

The problem was he didn’t know him and apparently no one else did either.

He had gone through a _serious_ amount of connections already and had come up with nothing. How the hell that was possible was beyond him.

Theoretically, he should have figured out who the kid was by now.

Dalton is a private school, the upper echelon of schools and because of that there wasn’t nearly as many students attending Dalton as there were in the rotting public schools.

Especially because he was popular. He thought he knew everybody already, and he would have thought someone knew Bambi blue eyes, but nobody knew him or his ass.

It was tragic.

The kid was like a fucking ghost.

He headed into the parking lot and received a shit ton of notifications on his phone when he pulled it out of his duffel bag.

The group chat was blowing up

**sNIFFing Pencil Lattes with the Captain and the Star of David**

**Nick:** So… where are is everyone? Jeff and I are sitting in the food court AWKWARDLY waiting for everyone like a bunch of sad turtles.

 **David:** Okay, first of all who changed the group name? NIFF??? Secondly, isn’t Star of David a little anti-Semitic when I’m not Jewish? Or at least appropriative ? Thirdly!!!!! You ARE turtles and EVERYTHING you do is awkward. We couldn’t help you if we tried.

 **Jeff:** Okay, Rude! But whatever even if we are turtles we are better turtles than you and also you didn’t answer the question STAR OF DAVID

 **Hunter:** I’m sorry, but are you Stephanie from full house all of a sudden, Jefferey? Calm your non-existent tits. Wes wanted to confer with me for some odd reason. Don’t know why he did. We all know he’s still kissing Blaine’s ass.

 **Jeff:** HOW RUDE! SHE SAYS HOW RUDE NOT OKAY, RUDE! THERE IS A DIFFERENCE! Also, Blaine isn’t bad, and why the heck isn’t Seb chiming in here?

 **David:** Because either of us would know the answer to that how? Also! I ended up staying here because my mom called and it turned into a whole long thing and I’m not hanging up on my mom for you guys. 10/10 would not recommend.

 **Nick:** Wait does that mean none of you are coming? We’ve just been sitting here waiting and none of you are coming? And none of you thought to tell us you weren’t coming? Like, not gonna lie, seriously getting ticked off.

 **Hunter:** What you can’t say pissed Nicky? I thought we raised you better, and I never said I wasn’t coming so calm the fuck. Also, fuck you for the pencil latte thing, and yes I realize that this is a delayed reaction, STFU.

 **Hunter:** I’ll head out soon okay?

 **Jeff:** Okay?

 **Jeff:** OKAY?

 **Jeff:**?????

 **Jeff:** Yeah, that’s fine.

 **Jeff:** ALSO, EARTH TO SEBASTIAN WHERE THE FUDGE MUFFINS ARE YOU????

 **David:** Language!

 **David:** I gotta get changed and then I will too be leaving.

 **Sebastian:** All of you are losers and blame Parker Fuckwit Flemings for me not being on time. That asshole is gonna die.

 **Nick:** FINALLY

 **Nick:** WE THOUGHT YOU DIED

 **Nick:** WE STARTED PLANNING THE VERRRRRRY TASTEFUL FUNERAL

 **Sebastian:** Okay why are we caplocking ALLL of that?

 **Sebastian:** Talk about unnecessary.

 **Jeff:** Whatever Sebby, get the fuck over here we are super tired of waiting.

 **Sebastian:** I don’t believe for a minute JEFFY, that you and Nicky were sitting there waiting the whole fucking time. That is a fucking lie. We all know that your asses went shopping without us before you decided to sit your asses down in an attempt to guilt trip us.

 **Sebastian:** nah, bish. NAH.

 **Sebastian:** Also, I’m getting into my car right now. Calm yourself. I know it’s always an exciting prospect to see me.

 **Hunter:** I’ll meet you at your car!

 **David:** SAME!!!!!

 **Sebastian:** Seriously??? Neither of you left yet, and you’re making me later than I already am?!?!

 **David:** Yes really.

 **Sebastian:** Fine then I’m replying to all the earlier messages while I wait for your sorry asses.

 **Sebastian:** Firstly, I’m okay with the name change 2! You guys ARE turtles and you ARE awkward at everything and we really COULDN’T help you. Also you are NOT better turtles than us tf???

 **Sebastian:** 3\. Jefferey is right about the full house quote butttttt I’m still siding with hunter on how he said it so….. 4. Blaine is that bad, BUTTTTTTT I’d buttfuck him into next Tuesday, replace that stick in his ass with a better one.

 **Sebastian:** 5\. To quote Chromeo..

 **Sebastian:** You’re a mama’s boy mama’s boy mama’s boy! But!! in all seriousness, I’ve met his mom… I agree with the 10/10 would not recommend thing.

 **Sebastian:** 6!!! Nicky! Hunt is right, we DID raise you better. Where are your manners? We’ll never be able to introduce you to anyone of good standing. Tsk tsk.

 **Jeff:** HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU SO FAST AT TYPING STAPHHHH

 **Sebastian:** 7!!!! To quote D and Captain America…

 **Sebastian:** Language!

 **Sebastian:** Also the two losers are finally getting into my car.

 **Hunter:** Fuck you, and yes I said that out loud too niff.

 **David:** Okay enough with the group chat! 3 OF US ARE IN THE SAME CARE AND TWO OF US ARE TOGETHER AT THE MALL WHERE THE OTHER 3 ARE HEADED. STOP THE MADNESS.

 **Sebastian:** Niff, you guys couldn’t see it but I rolled my eyes at him.

 **Hunter:** car*

 **Hunter:** CAR*

 **Sebastian:** Thought you’d wanna know.

 **David:** Fuck all of you and hey wait you never answer the Star of David question seb. OH AND FUCK YOU EVEN HARDER HUNTER. I DON’T NEED YOU CORRECTING ME

 **Nick:** Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt

 **David** : when I see your stupid face I’m flipping it off Nocivelli

 **Sebastian** : …we are sitting in the same car. I’m done. I’m out. You hypocrite. ALSO NOT THE TIME TO QUOTE VONNEGUT YOU TUMBLR PIECE OF SHIT. Did you even read the book???!??!?

 **Hunter:** OOOOOOOH SEBBY MADDDDDDDDD

 **Sebastian:** SHUT THE FUCK UP SO I CAN DRIVE YOUR LAZY ASSES.

 **Nick:** YOU ASS YOU KNOW MY NAME ISNT NOCIVELLI

 **David:** I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t make fun of you Nicoise.

 **Nick:** Up your Ziggy with a Wa-Wa brush. I’M NOT A SALAD.

 **Jeff:** omg im dying egkaleiui

 **Hunter:** No you aren’t a salad you are just a loser who quotes lame movies with things they use in place of cuss words. You absolute girl’s blouse.

 **David:** k, I agree but we aren’t in britain dude, hell you aren’t even british at all! Also is that even what they say??

 **Hunter:** Good god man, do you not know my family history?

 **David:** YOU AREN’T BRITISH

 **Sebastian:** okay im at a stop light. Fuck off, honestly, and for fucks sake you two are in the same FUCKING CAR, SHUT UPPPP.

* * *

 

It felt like forever before those fuckers stopped bickering with him and for the light to turn green so he could finally get going again. Honestly, he was starving and Nick and Jeff were _hilarious_ if they thought their asses were leaving the food court when they got there.

Because, bitch, there was a pasta dish from Sbarro and a cinnamon roll from Cinnabon with his motherfuckin name on them.

Hell, he might add a trip to Orange Julius.

Make it a whole thing.

They could sit there til their asses attached themselves to those chairs.

Because Sebastian was gonna go hangry on their asses and eat them if they stood between him and his getting food!

And not in the fun way!

“I, swear to God! Hunter if your hand goes to change the song I will break it! Keep your filthy hands to yourself when you’re in my car. I know where they’ve been. I’m not gonna get contaminated by whatever girl you slept with recently. God, did you even wash your hands since you’ve been with one last?” He shuddered at the thought of Lady fluids near his precious.

“You are so dramatic and I’ll have you know that my girls are cleaner than whatever flavor of the day you’ve been with.” Hunter has a haughty eyebrow raised toward him and he still tried to put his hand near the console. He smacked it hard.

“What part of no, do you not understand, Clarington?” David rolled his eyes at the both of them.

“That would be the no part.” He was such a snarky bitch.

“Shouldn’t be so surprised I suppose. I mean, god, a place tells you no for sugar and you go all Cro-Magnon man on them.” David was snickering in the backseat because honestly, that shit was hilarious. Hunter swirled his head to look at him and redirected his glare at him instead of at Seb.

“Asshole. I was having a rough time and those bitches shouldn’t have given me Splenda. You shouldn’t give me shit about it.” Sebastian scoffed.

“Ummm, no I totally would because even _I_ think you shouldn’t act that way. Jesus, I know you have an allergy but there are better ways of handling that shit. You went _viral_. You could have become a _meme_. Don’t become a déclassé plebian.”

“God, you both are so bougie.” Sebastian made a face.

“Okay, were you with a public school girl again? Because seriously to quote one so you might understand, you sound ‘ratchet’. Never talk that way in my presence again,” he paused before making an amendment, “Unless you’re doing it ironically, in which case go ahead.” David chortled.

“Wow, you are such a fucking hipster.” Even Hunter was staring at Sebastian with disbelief.

“I agree with Asher, back there. If you don’t stop you’ll become a democrat.” Sebastian nearly got whiplash from turning to look at Hunter with a look of truly being appalled.

“You don’t actually think I’m a _republican_ do you?” Hunter blinked.

“Of course I do. Aren’t we all?” Sebastian was glad there were finally parked in the lot. He turned to stare at him, and David provided support and did the same thing to look at their friend like he was a damn alien.

“No! No, we are not. God, I’ll admit I’m obviously conservative in my views on taxes but Jesus Christ, Hunt. No! For one thing, I’m Gay! I can’t believe you honestly, thought I was republican. Eww. Get the hell out of my car with that drivel.”

They all exited the vehicle with Hunter making a huff as though he’d been wronged. He was acting a bit like a cat. Sebastian half expected him to lick his paw and stand there in an attempt of regality in order to feel less like he’d been undignified.

“Okay, but can you honestly blame him? He probably got you confused with your father…” David put both hand up as he said this in a gesture of peace, “He’s still an idiot, because hello, you. But, well…was there ever much hope for him to begin with? Like, do we expect better from Clarington.”

Hunter’s eyes went wide before he rushed at David in order to try and put him in a headlock. David burst into laughter as he managed to twist the position and put Hunter in the headlock instead, and proceeded to give him a noogie.

“Firstly! You feeling alright ol’ chap? Really digging the new hairstyle. Also, yes, I can blame him, David. because I am not Archibald Albatross Smythe III, thanks. Also, my dad isn’t even Republican. He told me he always knew in his heart that I was gay even when I was just a small child running around Paris, and how could he ever want a life for his youngest little angel like the republicans want? No, my dad is an Independent erring on Democrat, So, let’s not insult him either.”

“God, your family would be that dramatic. Honestly, it shouldn’t be a surprise. You are so… Parisian.” Hunter righted his coat jacket as he made the word Parisian sound disdainful. Sebastian gave him a blank face before addressing David.

“Maybe he is English, the bloody prude.” There was a grimace upon his face as he turned to address Hunter, “Just because I’m more upfront about my sexual escapades doesn’t mean you aren’t just as a big a slut as I am, Johnny Steroid.” Hunter sneered at the moniker but couldn’t argue.

As they got closer to the court he made sure to send the boys over to Nick and Jeff and made it clear he was getting boatload of food himself and to placate the duo waiting for them.

It had taken what felt like nine years to get his food and god he was so happy to have it, and all he wanted to do was gorge himself it. He headed off to the table where his friends waited where they all stared at him in amusement; everyone else had some reasonable amount of food in front of them and Sebastian looked like he was feeding the whole table, not just himself.

As he sat down with his tray filled to the brim with food he snorted at Nick and Jeff.

“I would have thought you two fat asses would be done eating by now.” Nick and Jeff gave identical looks of wide eyed disbelief.

“You’re Joking! Right? Because I’m pretty sure Nick and I have been waiting ten years for you guys to show up. It’s not our fault we got hungry again.” Nick was nodding vigorously.

“Also, I know you aren’t calling us fat when you’re the one stuffing your face, Porky!” Nick’s sneer was getting better, it had the potential to reach Sebastian’s level. He could have shed a tear in pride.

“I’d like to point out that I spent my morning doing a vigorous workout unlike all of you and I didn’t even get an orgasm out of it. I gotta refuel if I’m dealing with you all today.” He grinned and proceeded to stuff his face, resembling a chipmunk all the while.

“Make sure to save yourself some room there, Smythe! You’re going to put on weight.” Sebastian snorted at David’s commentary.

“Please, the only weight I ever put on is my partner’s when he’s connected to my Dick.” Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes.

“We get it, you top. All hail the alpha male!” Sebastian swallowed a mouthful and winked at Jeff for the comment.

“You all could stand to take some lessons!” Hunter sneered at him, David just rolled his eyes upward in a gesture that said, ‘why me?’ while Nick and Jeff just stared at him with identical blank faces.

David, being the only sensible one, decided to change the subject.

“So, when do you have to be at your parent’s house tonight?” Sebastian shifted uncomfortably in his seat and didn’t meet the others’ eyes while he played around with his food.

“Ehh, I’m thinking of ditching that dinner, maybe I’ll go hit up a club, meet the next love of my life.” Everyone raised eyebrows.

“You want to ditch Celine? Have fun, no, seriously, cheers mate! She’ll kill you.” Sebastian screwed up his face in distaste toward Hunter.

“My mother’s name is Mrs. Smythe to you Clarington! Ugh, never refer to her as Celine. She’s mom, not some woman you have the hot’s for.” Hunter smirked.

“Your mom is a _grade A_ Milf. I _am_ attracted to her.” Before Sebastian had time to make a rebuttal Nick felt the need to chime in.

“Wait… isn’t Jourdan coming home for the weekend too?” Everyone swiveled their head toward Sebastian in confusion. Everyone knew Sebastian hero worshipped his older brother, and it only got worse as he’d been away for school.

“Yeah… he is.” Everyone was deeply concerned and stared at him.

“You, Sebastian “I-love-my-big-brother-more-than-anyone” Smythe, are going to willingly pass up a chance to spend time with him? I don’t believe it.” Sebastian sighed and scratched the back of his head. David was right. This wasn’t typical of him, he grew up running around after his older brother and everyone knew they were as close as two brothers could be. His parents had always been proud of how close the two boys were, rarely any fights broke out between the two.

“Well, Jourdan isn’t the only one whose going to be there. The prodigal abuser returns as well.” Everyone’s eyebrows shot upward toward the ceiling.

“Ambrose is coming here too? I thought he lived with his mother.” He glanced up at Jeff and nodded. Ambrose was the eldest son of Archibald Smythe, born from his first marriage to Adrian Cartwright when he still felt honor bound to marry for business and not love.

“He does. But Ambrose apparently wanted to see Dad, and Jour of course.” Most people didn’t know about Ambrose, let alone about the terribly abusive tendencies he had toward Sebastian. This group of boys were the only ones who knew and they never understood. Ambrose got along well with Jourdan but when it can to Seb, it was as if his very existence offended him.

No one knew what to say. Ambrose rarely ever visited, the strained relationship between him and Sebastian meant that Archibald was the one to visit him instead, occasionally joined by Jourdan. They knew Celine must be pissed.

She could never fully forgive Ambrose for the ‘accident’ and the rest of the unnecessary abuse.

They all exchanged looks and it was surprisingly Jeff who changed topics.

“Hey! Guess who we saw today?”

“Who? Was it Parker? Maybe, Sebby can get into a cat fight.” Sebastian rolled his eyes at Hunter but he still wasn’t himself, a normal Sebastian would have agreed and gone on a rant about Parker.

“No! It was the guy from yesterday! The one from the library. Penis Game Guy.” Sebastian shot up in his seat and sat straight, intrigue getting the better of him, while David looked on in amusement and Hunter rolled his eyes.

“God, are you really obsessing over this nobody kid? He can’t be that great.” Sebastian just grinned.

“Actually, he is, Mr. Not-Even-Remotely-Bisexual,” with that he turned back toward Nick and Jeff, “Where was he? Is he here? Did you find out anything about him?” Nick and Jeff laughed.

“Sorry, Seb. We didn’t learn anything about him,” Nick’s brow furrowed in thought, “He looked scared though. He saw something and his skin got all pale an-” Sebastian wasted no time in cutting him off.

“He’s always pale, you saw him yesterday, his skin is like porcelain.”

“Before you rudely interrupted me, I was saying that he saw something turned even _more_ pale and ran off. Literally ran away.” Nick crossed his arms over his chest and gave Sebastian a look of being unimpressed with his lack of manners.

“Ran away? Ran where?” Sebastian paid no mind to Nick and his theatrics.

“Yeah,” Jeff was nodding, “ran away. He even left the girls he was here with. They looked shocked and then they tried running after him. Sorry, neither of us saw anymore after that, a bunch of jocks ended up making a huge scene and we got distracted.”

Sebastian slouched in his seat with a pout.

He was so close to finding out more about Bambi.

His life sucked, nothing was turning out the way it should today.

The others rolled their eyes. They were well versed in dealing with Sebastian’s dramatic tendencies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, Did you guys like Bas? Did you like his friend dynamic? Sorry for how long that group text was but I thought it gave some base to their friendship plus I loved writing it. Also, I know not many fics have music involved inspite of the fact that you know singing is pretty prevalent in these peoples lives... So how do you guys feel about me incorporating songs into the fic, because I've got some ideas for the official kurtbastian songs. I may have even slipped a very, VERY tiny clue into what one of them is in this very chapter. But, I'm super over the teenage dream Klaine thing. But, it's up to you guys I don't want to write something that you guys will absolutely hate. So, please let me know? Also, sorry for rambling I'm a talker. Thanks again for all your support so far. It means a lot.


	4. Joey with Tits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so first of all I am super sorry that this did not come out when it was supposed to? Like my life got very crazy, very fast. So, for one thing I kind of lost my two best friends in the world. Not in a death way, just a have part ways on horrible terms, kind of way. My dad has been awful and he ganged up on me along with my sister. I think I remind them of my mom and for some reason that just means I am the bad daughter/sibling? I am also getting ready to move so I've been packing packing and I got a full time job on top of the summer classes, which I'm still not done with and I still have two more essays to write for. Also, my boyfriend and I almost broke up? kind of did and now we are fine but things were very much not good. Sorry to unload but I wanted you guys to know why things did not go as planned. This story will most likely be updated not super regularly as of right now, because I will have full time school and full time work? It's all a little crazy.  
> Anyway, this chapter is a lot more... emotionally intense compared to last chapter.  
> Also I nearly doubled the fic with this chapter? Chapter three capped this thing out at 9,745 words. This 32 page monster is 8,987 words. That's only 758 words of difference.  
> Which is whackadoodle to me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Also Finn is a super asshat in this chapter just FYI.

Kurt was quiet in the car, he felt raw and broken open. He was also incredibly mortified at someone having seen him at such a vulnerable point. It didn’t matter that the people who had seen this happen had known him most of his life. He’d grown up with Quinn and Santana; had known them since he was a kid, well Santana at least.

They had been... not necessarily enemies of his but they certainly hadn’t been his friends until an hour or so ago.

Now he just felt weak. It was not a good feeling.

He could feel Quinn glancing at him in worry every few minutes, but still sure to keep her eyes on the road as she drove his Nav.

He never moved his gaze away from the window of the passenger seat where he sat.

He hated feeling weak.

No one had ever seen him in that vulnerable place before.

He’d worked so hard to make sure they never knew they got the best of him.

Even when Coach Sylvester had found him and Karofsky...

He’d made sure that neither of them saw a hint of anything that could be construed as weak.

Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.

DAMNIT.

He was stronger than this.

He closed his eyes and breathed, he would not cry.

He would not cry.

His own father hadn’t seen him in that panicked state before, not outside of his mother’s death. He was pathetic. There were so many people who were worse off, who dealt with worse, and here he was freaking out over nothing.

He let these two people see him being the pitiful thing everyone thought he was.

He sighed inaudibly, and with glassy eyes, he stared out the window again.

* * *

 

 

Quinn’s hold on the steering wheel was white knuckled, her lips were pursed and her body was thrumming with anxious energy. She couldn’t help glancing over at Kurt every few minutes, but it was difficult to leave it at that. If she let her body do what it/she wanted, she’d probably just be staring at him and there would be no paying any attention to the road

She had never in the entire time she had known him had she ever seen him look so...small.

Yes, he was petite for a boy, but this Kurt was more than that. He seemed so young, so meek. He was such a pure person.

It was truly a horrible thing to see the person she had always associated with unwavering strength in such turmoil.

She had hopes that Santana was doing her thing and starting fires.

She glanced at him again.

“Kurt?” All that got her was a barely there hum in acknowledgement.

“Honey, can you look at me?” There was no response. She bit her lip.

“Sweetheart, I’m taking you home...” He didn’t even twitch, “I-I think maybe you need to be around your family right now.”

Again, nothing.

He just sat there curled up in a blanket unresponsive and she wondered if he had even heard her.

She wasn’t sure taking him home was the best idea, God, her having to be around Finn at all was a terrible idea. Still, she knew that him being brought back to Dalton was probably the worst idea when he was like this.

She had some serious doubts he’d be okay with those new classmates seeing him like this, not when he’d been so uncomfortable at the thought of Quinn and Santana seeing him like this that he’d actually fled.

That, she felt, said a lot. Granted, she understood their relationship hadn’t always been great and while she wasn’t the normal instigator toward the gays even with her intense background with the bible, but she certainly hadn’t helped him.

She should have realized he had taste when his utter distaste at Berry rivaled that of herself.

She felt a pang in her stomach as it became so much clearer to her that while she might not have been the main reason for his clear anxiety issues, she certainly played her part in it, by standing idle or siding with his tormentors.

Kurt deserved better.

She was now painfully aware of that, much more so than she had been before.

In a way, she selfishly felt like her past with Kurt was defining her in a truly awful way. It was horrible. She was here, refusing to have let all the other things in her past define her. Everything that had caused her life to change, she wouldn’t let anyone, including herself say that it defined her.

And, yet...here she sat, her white knuckled grip and the roiling in her stomach, speaking volumes about how much she felt her actions toward Kurt had defined who she was.

With a pang in her heart, she felt utterly exposed.

For a selfish and guilty moment, she was grateful he wouldn’t look her way, and see with those very knowing eyes of his that she perhaps was erring on being just as much a mess as he was.

He was the type of person who would have immediately pushed his own feelings aside, and would have focused on her.

He was a better person than most. In a moment of utter clarity, she felt she both understood him and was understood by him, knowing that her own moments of vulnerability were precious things locked away tight from prying eyes.

She couldn’t keep from glancing at him yet again.

His eyes were glassy and unmoving, glazed over and out of it as he stared out the window.

He looked so painfully young. She remembered him from when they were little. They might not have gone to the same school but they had always shared a library and he had been there often as his mother worked there.

He was so full of radiant light back then. Before any child had the concept that liking anyone could ever be wrong, before the bullying must have begun.

She remembered he’d been smaller than her back then, but he’d seemed so big. He had been so sweet and thoughtful, kind to her when everyone hated the fat girl.

Not that anyone here really knew that past. But she’d always loved the little boy who had been so kind to her, so genuinely kind to her in a time when she had felt so unlovable.

Her young heart had broken twice when his mother had died.

First for the beautiful woman who always gave her a cookie when she came around and had always had a kind word for her.

And the second time upon realizing that because of Miss Elizabeth’s death that the little girl would never see that little boy again.

Not until walls had been built and weight had been lost; damage done so thoroughly to make her cold and unforgiving.

She felt a tear slide down her cheek as she mourned the loss of that little boy, of the friendship that could have been and continued, over the potential support and love they had never been given.

She felt herself grieve over the loss of what could have been.

One of her hands loosened their grip and wiped at her face before going back to its harsh grip on the steering wheel.

That was then. This is now.

Kurt still had no idea she was Lucy, and he probably didn’t remember that little girl anyway.

And yet…

She was determined to be that friend he needed now. Every word she’d said to him at the mall had been true.

She just had to prove it.

She would prove it.

No matter how much time it took.

Her resolve was strong and she hoped God had mercy on the souls she would rain hell upon for hurting this truly beautiful soul.  For making him small.

* * *

 

Santana was contemplating as she drove Q’s car. She had so much digging to do. There was so much work to be done if she wanted to really learn about and then fix all the crap that involves Kurt

The problem is she doesn’t know quite where to begin.

She had been pissed upon realizing that the jocks that had clearly caused her friend’s panic attack had been run out of the mall for being buffoons. No eaves dropping could occur when that happened.

Phase one of the initial plan was a failure. She doesn’t know if he’s still on their radar.

She wonders how much information she can get from Kurt’s oaf of a stepbrother.

Because, on one hand, Finn can be stupidly naive and would probably spill details like the various amounts of drinks he spills with his offensive clumsiness. On the other hand, is he even privy to the details surrounding the mystery of Kurt’s transfer? He’s kind of an idiot and he’s proven himself no more helpful to Kurt than any of his other bullies.

Why would he know anything?

The obvious option is going to coach...but that’s also the stupidest idea. She’s always had a soft spot for Kurt and the likelihood that she’d be anything more than a wrathful god at the mention and possible discretion of Kurt’s privacy...well it isn’t very good.

She’s got a lot of planning to do for this one.

She thinks of maybe using Brittany as a form of reconnaissance would be interesting, but that could get messy really quick.

For one thing, Brittany would probably freak out over her mention of her dolphin.

Also, for as much as she loved her, could she be a reliable source when giving her the reports back?

Probably not. Plus...everything was still weird between them right now. No, Brit was not an option.

JBI was an idea, but possibly a stupider idea than using Brit. He had gossip and knowledge but he wasn’t always reliable and while she was more than fine using her sexual prowess to get what she wanted...he was creepier than she dared venture toward.

Plus, he was a vengeful little asshole. Knowing her luck, she’d refuse the sexual favor, because Lord knows that’s what he’d ask for, and then she’d intimidate him and then he’d somehow find something to leak about her.

No, Jacob Ben Israel was dangerous in the weirdest way possible. She was an idiot if she crossed him. He may have been lower than dirt to the school but he had a way of getting his revenge

She also really didn’t want to sleep with him or give him her underwear, or whatever the hell he’d want from her for the information she sought.

No. This was going to take some serious thinking. She had bodies to bury and she had to figure out who they belonged to.

God, none of her previous works had taken so much forethought.

She was ready to roast some bitches. Mama Snix was feeling blood thirsty.

She screwed up her face in annoyance and resolved to figure it out after her and Q did some major damage control with Kurt.

He was the first priority. He, himself, came before figuring out who to kill in his honor.

With that in mind, she made a little detour to the wrong side of the tracks.

* * *

 

Kurt didn’t even notice they’d been parked for a little while. When he finally did come back fully to reality he noticed they were outside his house.

He wonders just how long they’ve been there and why Quinn hasn’t pulled him a. From his thoughts and b. Into his house.

His nose scrunches, and he realizes just how tight his face is from all the tears that had come from before.

Ugh, being in his thoughts had not been the best idea.  But it hadn’t been his fault entirely. Emotional exhaustion can make a person shut down and, after the huge panic attack, he’s not really surprised that he’d gone practically catatonic in a way to shut down. He’s a little more put together.

He hadn’t exactly dissociated, he’d seen others in that state before; but he’d definitely spiraled into a pool of self-loathing and overthinking.

With a wince, he acknowledged there had been some definite cognitive distortions running around his head and Dr. Harper was going to have a field day talking to him about all this if his father made mention of this. Great. Just what he needed.

He cleared his throat and noticed just how parched he was. He pulled a water bottle from the case that sat near his feet in his passenger seat and God, that was weird. He never sat in the passenger seat of his own car.

He cracks the bottle top off easily and takes a swig of water. He licks his lips and before he knows it he’s downed the whole bottle. He decides that he can talk to Quinn about everything after he’s a bit more put together. He opens his glove compartment and takes out a black bag with his emergency skin care kit and he realizes he’s very grateful for the fact that he’s never taken it out. He hasn’t had much use for it since leaving McKinley.

He pulls it open and grabs his Jack Black face and body wipes and runs it over his face to get rid of the left-over salt streaks on his face from the tears. He feels a bit renewed once the salt tracks were gone and he quickly moisturizes and puts on some under eye cream.

 He pulls down his mirror and assess his looks calmly. He knows Quinn is watching him do all this silently.

She’s not forcing him to move or say anything until he’s ready and he’s grateful.

He hasn’t missed a spot but his eyes are tinged red, still glossy and wet looking and stinging from all the residual tears. He rummages through his bag and grabs his eye drops to take care of business before he realizes why Quinn hadn’t gotten his attention much earlier.

Santana pulls up and parks close by. He quickly put his eye drops in. not even flinching at the discomfort it brings.

As Santana walks over, carrying two big bags that pique his curiosity, he quickly puts his products in their case and places it back in the glove compartment. He closes the visor mirror with a harsh snap cracking in the silence.

When Santana gets there, she has a fast and apparently effective silent conversation with her blonde counterpart. 

Quick as a blink she turns toward him scanning him with ruthless eyes. She nods silently before making eye contact.

It’s clear that they are going to follow his lead about everything and are just going to not acknowledge what happened unless he does so first.

Knowing that makes a line of tension in his shoulders he hadn’t realized was there ease.

He could relax.

Santana’s brown eyes were shrewd and calculating but for once it was in defense of him instead of toward him. Quinn’s doe like green ones held a rare warmth. He couldn’t think of a time where he’d seen that. Especially not directed toward himself. This was something completely new.

He cleared his throat, grabbed another water bottle, cracked it open and took a sip.

“So… my house?” his question felt odd in what was previously comfortable silence. He almost squirmed in discomfort, but God, he’d been out of his comfort zone plenty today, let’s have some semblance of dignity.

Quinn and Santana glanced at each other but there was nothing in that look he felt should make him concerned.

“We didn’t think you’d want to be at Dalton right now, and that maybe you could find some comfort in your own room, in your own bed.” He gave a hesitant nod at Quinn. There was some merit to that thinking.

He really didn’t want the people at Dalton seeing him like this. It didn’t matter to him that they had a zero-tolerance policy for bullying, he had already caused enough of a stir amongst a small group of people; he didn’t need his weakness being showcased to his new school.

He did also miss his bed. He had a _really_ nice bed. Granted, he was a major comfort snob when it came to things like sleeping.  He’d never even been camping, and if the world loved him even a tiny amount he’d never go camping.

He bit his lip, and he felt the laser focus of the two girls narrow in on it. He gave a hesitant nod.

“That… sounds good.”  It did, it really did, and he felt a rush of gratefulness swell in his chest. They were actually trying and it didn’t feel forced or pitying, it felt like they genuinely cared.

He hadn’t anticipated that. Like at all.

He gingerly got out of his car, Quinn following suit as Santana came over to meet him on the sidewalk.

“Alright, Porcelain, lets hop to it. I have plans for us, for our little sleepover.” His eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t realized that they planned on staying with him, he thought they would give him his car keys and head back to Quinn’s car.

Instead he had Santana shaking the bags in her hand like in suggestion that he find a place for her to put them down, and that he’d better do it quickly.

He decided he wasn’t going to spend too much time thinking on that fact that he didn’t know how to feel about this enormous gesture of friendship. He just blinked at them and started walking towards his house.

He could practically feel them both oozing satisfaction as he opened the door.

They all started taking their shoes off at the entryway, and his head shot up as he heard the loud and arguably obnoxious voices of both his brother and his tiny shrill harpy of a girlfriend.

He felt his heart start to jackrabbit in his chest. He hadn’t seen Finn since before he’d  left for Dalton. His father had never pressured him into seeing either members of his step family, although he’d always been fine with Carol.

Finn was a completely different story. He felt all the tension zip back in his body at the elephantine steps pounding around on the stairs. He couldn’t even tell what they were saying, he was far too anxious at the at the idea of the reunion he’d hoped would never come.

Finn had been… upset prior to his departure, to say the least, and Kurt certainly had his doubts that things would be magically okay between them. There was so much blame going around in this family and no one was willing to make any concessions about who they felt was at fault.

It was unfortunate because, while Kurt bore no real blame, he was very much at the epicenter of this whole mess.

God, and he’d brought Quinn here, surely that would only cause more problems between him and his step brother. This was the worst. The day just kept getting worse and worse.

He could hear Quinn and Santana trying to talk to him but he couldn’t focus on them. Right now, his sole focus was on attempting to prepare himself for the meeting with Finn.

“What are you doing here?” Part of him thought that perhaps Finn would have been more distracted by Quinn being there but it was the two of them that were stuck in an intense amount of eye contact.

He gulped. He didn’t quite no how to answer that, not with the truth anyway. Finn was a person he doubted he would ever feel comfortable being vulnerable with or around.

He’s not sure how much he should blame himself for that. As the staring contest continued, he noticed that Quinn and Santana flanked him and were clearly ignoring Rachel who was shrieking about Quinn being in the house and how it was disrespectful to invite random people to Finn’s home.

He felt a certain amount of angry armor shield him in that moment.

“I live here.” It was stated flatly. He did technically live there, this was his home, where his father lived and where his mother’s things stayed in his room, where he had drunk hot chocolate with her every morning at breakfast.

While all of that was the truth, it felt like he had met challenge with challenge. Because even a few glances around the room it was clear that his father in his obliviousness, never intentional or callous, hadn’t noticed Finn’s clear attempts at erasing as much of his presence from the home as possible.

He couldn’t even fault his father not seeing it. It was all small things, clearly done over time. But it was clear that the house seemed more Finn’s than Kurt’s.

“Pretty sure you don’t, actually. Pretty sure our parents are wasting a lot of money to keep you at your school. You live there.” The bitterness in Finn’s tone was oppressive. If Kurt hadn’t known how every cent of his tuition was actually being taken care of, his statement might have stung.

Let Finn think what he wants, he doesn’t know anything. He could stay bitter thinking that money wasn’t being spent on him because of Kurt. He could think about the unfairness of it all if he wanted. He was wrong. Neither of his parents, father or stepmother was providing a penny for his tuition.

He was sure that his father would have paid for some of it had Kurt let him, but he’d refused. He understood that even with the scholarships he’d received it would have been a bit of fix paying for the rest of it.

The air was unbearably tense. Santana and Quinn had only moved closer to him, flanking him like they could somehow form a shield. He knew that they hadn’t anticipated this. He also knew they understood his previous hesitation about being at his home.

“Pretty sure, this is still _my_ home.” He saw Finn’s nostrils flair. He wondered briefly how he’d ever had a crush on Finn. He wasn’t always smart, nor was he always kind even though he certainly had a reputation amongst many as a gentle giant.

The truth was that Finn could be very selfish and self-absorbed. At least Kurt could own up to his own negative traits. Hell, he was far more likely to see his negatives than his positives. He was vindictive and at times manipulative. He could be very negative and he had a knack for coming across as cold. He was very sarcastic and cynical, and hell, he’d admit he could be petulant at times.

While it seems that’s how everyone sees him they never seem to see Finn’s who had a mean streak that was both deceptively kind and miles wide.

Before Finn could continue on with whatever he was going to say next, Rachel was clearly done being ignored, and she marched herself over to Kurt, attempting to get in his face. He was reminded vaguely of a Jack Russell Terrier and a Pomeranian crossbreed. She certainly had the yippiness.

“Kurt! I am appalled. I cannot believe you’d actually come here, and to bring that… harlot here, knowing all that she’s done to me and Finn. Honestly, you’re so selfish. Kurt, I understand that you seem to think you can just come around here whenever, but you don’t actually live here anymore and to bring... guests of questionable quality, especially without permission, is just unacceptable.” The trio she stood in front of just blinked at her, in awe of her audacious attitude.

It seemed upon realizing that they weren’t going to say anything she just continued on, her giant boyfriend standing smugly behind her as if proud that his pint-sized pixie stick of a girlfriend was screeching at them like a tiny guard dog.

“I think it’s unbelievably underhanded of you to come here in hopes of stealing information about the glee club,” Kurt shook his head a little in shock, was this girl serious?

“I thought you were better than this, I suppose that’s my own fault for having had those hopes. I should have never assumed a coward who abandons his team members to have any strength of character.” All three jaws dropped before her, because, no, seriously is she for real?

With every word that passed from her mouth Finn seemed to puff up further in pride, meanwhile the girls just progressively got stiffer and angrier, not that Rachel seemed to notice or care. Her tirade was the strangest thing Kurt has seen in a while.

“I think that all of us can agree that I’ve dealt with far worse than whatever it is that made you run away, but I stayed, Kurt. I stayed and persevered. I’ve been bullied far worse than you and I’ve never felt the need to abandon anybody else or get others in trouble for things that don’t involve them I really think--” Kurt had sort of shut down at this point.

His eyes had noticeably shuttered and his body slumped in defeat. Was this what everyone thought? He didn’t cry, he eye didn’t even get a little misty. He was out of tears for now. He felt the small crack and fissure erupt in his armor though. He couldn’t pay attention to the tirade any longer, it started to all sound like that wah wah noise from Charlie Brown.

He was brought back by a swift noise in the air as Rachel’s face and hair whipped to one side. Santana had smacked her across the face as she’d pushed Quinn behind her to prevent Quinn from getting in trouble for doing it instead.

Both boys’ mouths were open in shock, Finn’s mind having seemingly gone offline.

Quinn and Santana seemed proud and all powerful in that moment, while Rachel held her reddened cheek, tears pooling in her eyes more out of shock than pain.

“Now that I’ve finally managed to make you stop harassing Kurt, how about you take over Quinn?” The blonde in question smiled beatifically in acknowledgement.

“I think I will. Now, before you start going in on Santana for hitting you, I’d like to point out you were slandering our friend, and while she shouldn’t have hit you, perhaps you shouldn’t have been verbally assaulting him.” Rachel’s eyes widened, the rest of her face coloring to match the red of her cheek, while Finn’s brain finally seemed to come back to life, and he was moving closer to the two of them, looking so much like the white knight everyone played him out to be.

“Hey! You need to--”

“NO, you need to shut up and listen.” Quinn’s eyes were piercing and they seemed to pin Finn down as she cut him off.

“I acknowledged our fault here, but you guys never will. She’s harassing your brother Finn! She honestly believes that brother is just doing this for attention. God, the most annoying and self-absorbed person I’ve ever met is attacking your brother and for some entirely unknown reason you actually seem to be siding with her.” Finn didn’t seem ashamed merely uncomfortable under her penetrating gaze.

“I resent that! I am merely holding him accountable for his actions! He shouldn’t be so quick to defend himself. He got Finn in trouble, he abandoned our team, one you and Santana are supposedly apart of I might add, he’s causing financial stress on his family, on members that shouldn’t have to feel burdened by him! He’s not even related to all of them! And he’s doing all of this because what? He got one too many slushies to the face? He’s the selfish and self-absorbed one here. Though I suppose that just explains why you two are defending him.”

“Wow, just… wow. Honestly, Berry I didn’t think I could dislike you more.”

“You do lack character, Quinn. I apologize for being the only one to call you out on it. You’re pretty so no one will ever hurt or go against you, but what you did to Finn is unforgivable.” Quinn nodded. She knew her part in all of that, she made peace with her own heinous crimes.

“You’re right, Rachel. I was awful and what I did to Finn, pretending he was the father was in fact unforgiveable. Do I regret cheating on him? No, because he was doing it too, and you’ve never acknowledged your own part in that have you? Also, yes emotional cheating does count.” Rachel just stood prouder.

“I did nothing, maybe had you been a better girlfriend he wouldn’t have been getting his emotional needs met elsewhere.”

“Rachel, I have never met a more hypocritical person than you. You did play a part there, I’m not mad about that. I don’t care about that anymore. But, you did play a part whether you want to admit it or not, you did. You also, in suggesting that Finn and his mother are not really family to Kurt, just disregarded one of your own fathers. Your own self-interest knows no bounds. You really have the audacity to think that you’ve been bullied the worst? You have no clue why Kurt transferred. Zero. You have no clue what he’s dealt with on a daily basis. Everyone in this room has been bullied in form or another.”

Rachel scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Really, you’re going to stand there and talk to me about bullying? Oh woe is me I was bullied for a year because I was a skank and got pregnant after cheating on my boyfriend. Really, Quinn, I figured you’d come up with something better. The girl who bullied everyone is going to stand here and talk to the victim of her most vindictive behavior.”

Quinn pursed her lips in mild acknowledgement, she knew her role in Berry’s life, but she knew nothing about Quinn’s life and her history.

“First of all, you’d think that after defending your boyfriend for so long you’d be saying he was the victim of my most vindictive behavior. Just pointing that out there. I think he deserves you, you know? He’s spineless and fickle and I honestly can’t believe I thought I was in love with him. But you, bravo. You know nothing of anyone else’s suffering. At least I admit that I’ve been a bitch and that I’ve been awful. At least I’m trying to do better and I’m learning from my mistakes. You, you though, you wear your victimhood like a badge of honor. It’s just one more thing to make you feel like a character from a movie. Are you ever tired of pretending to be Elphaba? Because I gotta tell you maybe you ought to realize that you are not the world’s biggest misunderstood victim. You aren’t. You’ve gone through things, I won’t deny that, but you act like no one in world has ever had it worse. That’s why I can’t stand you Rachel. It’s not because you’re talented. It’s not because you stole Finn. You act so innocent, like the world is against you and no one else could ever understand your pain. God, at least I own up to the fact that I’m an awful human being. You won’t, you’ll sit there blue in the face pretending you aren’t one of the biggest bitches I’ve ever met.” Quinn felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she finally let much of her feelings out when it came to Rachel.

The room when shock still as Rachel pulled a Santana and smacked Quinn across her face.

It was all true, Kurt felt the exact same way about the pixie sized brunette. Their dislike of the girl had nothing to do with how annoying she was, with how self-absorbed she could be. It had more to do with the fact that she was all those things on top of being such a liar, like her boyfriend in that regard.  

She could dish it out all day but god forbid anyone call her out in any way. To a degree he understood, no one likes their worst qualities, or perhaps the things they are most self-conscious about thrown in their face.

Though, Kurt seriously doubted that Rachel thought any of those things about herself.

She had just proven that when she hit Quinn. Rachel was smug and her chest was heaving. She’d clearly been holding that in for a while.

There was an almost hysterical laugh that erupted out of Quinn’s mouth and as she brought her face back forward.

Kurt gasped, Quinn was bleeding. Rachel had drawn blood, a small amount but still the fact that she’d clawed Quinn’s face was more than a little shocking.

Seriously, this is what happens when he comes home… they hadn’t even been here for fifteen minutes.

“We can’t stay here, I was wrong.” Kurt didn’t look at Rachel and Finn who no doubt sported the faces of people who thought they’d won. No, this wasn’t winning. This was Kurt thinking this entire situation was insane and they needed to leave before it could somehow escalate further. Santana nodded and grabbed the bags while Kurt was walking out.

Quinn laughed harder.

“Fuck you, I hope you both live happily ever after.” No one could read Quinn’s tone and no one tried.

* * *

 

Carol was standing there in shock as she stared at the scene before her. She was sure her face was paler than normal and she wasn’t sure what to think. She’d never foreseen anything like this happening. Kurt has rushed through the door with his friends and there was her son, her little boy comforting his girlfriend.

If she hadn’t seen what just happened she may have thought the scene was sweet, but it wasn’t.  She swallowed hard and slowly stepped forward.

“Rachel,” both faces snapped over to her in surprise but she could see no remorse in either of their faces, and her stomach dropped further, “I think you should go home.”

Her son’s face, and even her’s, suggested protests were coming her way.

“Now.” Her voice and face brokered no argument, and she saw the brunette straighten her back, in both pride and indignance. She glanced at her boyfriend in a way that suggested he needed to do something because somehow this was unacceptable.

She was right, it was unacceptable how they had behaved and how high maintenance she was being.

“Rachel,” the name was sharp in her mouth, “That wasn’t a question. Leave. Now.” The amount of entitlement that radiated from her was inexcusable. Her son was standing there clearly unsure of what to do, knowing he shouldn’t go against his mother, but in the face of the wrath his girlfriend might reign down he clearly didn’t know which would be better to do.

“Mrs. Hudson, I’m not sure what you saw but I assure that anything you might have seen was provoked. I was protecting our best guy, I think you’ll find when you hear the full story you’ll thank me. Honestly, if Kurt hadn’t left I’m sure you’d have realized his actions were unacceptable and understood that I simply had to intervene.” Rachel smiled, her white teeth on display in a way that contrasted ridiculously with the situation at hand.

“No, Rachel, I think you’ll find that I won’t.” Her smile faltered and she finally seemed unsure of herself as she glanced from her to her boyfriend rather rapidly. She wasn’t gauging the situation well, Carol thought.

“Leave, Rachel. I won’t ask again.” She seemed to startle at the words understanding that this was no joke, this wasn’t something she cute (annoy) her way out of.

“Of course, Mrs. Hudson,” Carol pursed her lips it was more accurate to be called Mrs. Hummel-Hudson and she’d gotten it wrong twice, “Finn, will take me home right now.”

Carol raised her eyebrow at the sheer audacity.

“No, he won’t. He’s grounded and about to give me his car keys.” Both children looked her shocked.

“But, Mom!” she shut him up with a look.

“Keys, now.” She held out her hand.

“Mrs. Hudson, I don’t have a way home if he doesn’t drive me.”

She looked at the girl who peered at her with Coca-Cola eyes trying in vain to look innocent.

“Fine,” they both looked slightly relieved and both went to move toward the door, “You’ll both wait on the couch while I call your fathers, Rachel. Keys, Finn. Now.” They both went lily white before moving to the couch finally understand the severity of the situation.

“Mrs. Hudson, I really don’t think calling them is warranted.”

“Hummel-Hudson.” It was a simple statement she thought, one that didn’t need explanation as she pulled open the contacts in her phone.

“I’m sorry?” Rachel’s smile, although a permanent fixture, took on a brittle edge as it wavered before coming back to itself.

“Hummel-Hudson. My name is Mrs. Hummel-Hudson.” Rachel seemed to still, understanding she’d messed up the name more than once.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Ahh, the appearance of manners appear just as her phone is ringing. She stares them both down as they try to be quietly having a conversation.

“Hello, Hiram. I have Rachel here and I’m afraid I need you to pick her up.” The man on the other end of the line sighs.

“No possible way that Finn can bring her? Leroy and I are sort of in the middle of something.” Carol sympathized, she did, and normally she would have let Finn still take her home.

“Unfortunately, that won’t be possible. I’m really in need of someone to pick her up, if it’s not possible I suppose I can call a cab. My husband isn’t home and I have to parent my son it seems.”

“Oh, that’s not good… is there any feasible way you can postpone it to drop Rachel off yourself?” Carol was a patient woman, an understanding woman, a gracious woman and normally this wouldn’t press her buttons, but lord it was right now.

“No, Hiram I can’t. Now, I’ll be frank, if you don’t pick her up or I don’t send her home in a cab I’m going to parent your daughter for you. Now, that really isn’t my place but I’m angry enough to do it. I’m sure you’d appreciate it if she told her versions of the events that took place in my home this evening.” Rachel was ghost-white, looking at her with sad, betrayed cow eyes.

Hiram sputtered and cleared his throat, she could hear him make some low comments to his husband before he returned back to the conversation.

“I apologize for whatever happened Carol, Leroy is in the car right now headed over.” Carol nodded.

“Thank you. I’ll have Rachel waiting for him on the porch swing,” the girl looked ready to burst, clearly feeling that she was being treated disrespectfully, “In the interest of full disclosure she won’t be allowed in our home for a while, and while I’m not going to stop their dating, Finn won’t be allowed into your home either. He also won’t be driving her home anymore, he’s officially taking to bus anywhere he wants to go.”

Both kids looked half-crazed, finding the situation unjust.

“…I understand, I’m sorry about whatever it is that’s happened.” Carol appreciated the fact that he wasn’t acting out like his daughter.

“Thank you, Hiram. I hope you have a good evening.” When he said his goodbyes, she hung up.

“Like I told your father, you can wait on the porch swing.” Rachel and Finn both got up and looked at each other incredulously.

“Not you, Finn. Just, Rachel.” The girl flushed red with anger and did one of her famous storm offs, complete with a truly brash door slam.

“Sit down, Finn.” Her son let out a huff of hair as he sat down. It was ridiculous, her son was so big, so large that most people would have mistaken him for an adult and yet here they were. Him scrunching to try and fit in a seat to get scolded about his actions, like he wasn’t past kindergarten.

“You want to explain yourself, Finn?” She was tired, so very tired and, as she crossed her arms, angry. She couldn’t tell which one she was more of.

“There’s nothing to explain. Want to tell me why I’m being punished because of Kurt? Again?” His face was hard and petulant, and she wondered where on earth her sweet little boy had gone.

“You’re joking, right? You know what? No, before we get started on your actions, let’s talk about Rachel and Quinn because clearly that needs to be a discussion.” He glowered at her and with a single eyebrow raise he looked chastened.

“You’re overreacting. Girls, always overreact. Look, Kurt shouldn’t have brought Quinn here. She’s not welcome in this house. Rachel was right, It’s disrespectful. She was proven right you know! She’s comes here after everything she’s done to me and she goes in on Rachel, saying all kinds of things. I don’t blame her for slapping Quinn.” Carol blinked at him stupidly, because there were so many things wrong in what he said. Just so many.

“Okay, before we go any further, what you said was sexist and I didn’t raise you that way, so you might want to fix the attitude, kid,” she gave him a very pointed glance and he stared defiantly back. Yup, this was going to be a very long night, “Next, Kurt is allowed to have friends in his own home, I doubt Quinn would have bothered you if you hadn’t said anything to her. I admit I haven’t been her biggest fan given your history with her, but your girlfriend drew blood. That’s not okay, Finn! From what I saw Rachel had her own words. Your girlfriend doesn’t get to dictate if your brother brings friends over to his own home. Also, for the record, I’m not sure I understand why _you_ are so bothered with Quinn being in here, you’ve made your own choice in being okay to be around her. _You_ chose to stay in Glee club, knowing that you have to spend time with her nearly every day.” Her son looked angrier and she had to wonder where the heck he got this from. Neither her or her late first husband had ever been like this.

“First off, it’s my home too! He doesn’t even live here anymore! Shouldn’t he ask to come over? I’m sick of being in trouble because of him! I didn’t do anything wrong. So, what if she drew blood? Santana hit her first! You didn’t even see everything. God, Kurt runs off like a baby and you just automatically take his side. It’s not my fault he can’t handle anything like a man, he’s pathetic, needing girls to fight his battles for him.” She let out a long breathe.

“Finn, I’m going to need help understanding your logic here, Santana slapping Rachel gives Rachel the right to hit Quinn? How does that make sense? Santana shouldn’t have hit her, I will give you that, but I am very stuck on how you think Rachel slapping her was okay. You’re right this is your home, but it’s still Kurt’s as well and I can’t believe you would think he would have to ask if he came come to his own home. I’m getting really sick and tired of your attitude with him. You know that you played a part in how much trouble you’ve been in and honestly, Burt and I have been very lenient on you. You are right, I didn’t see everything and boy, I am really glad I didn’t. I don’t want to be more disappointed than I already am. Also, again Sexist. Very sexist. I don’t know who raised you to be like that because it wasn’t me. I’m not taking his side, I don’t even know what his side is but I saw what you did and what you didn’t do. That’s enough for me to punish you.”

His feet stomped angrily on the ground, her son was spitting mad and acting like an overgrown three-year-old.

“It isn’t his house! He doesn’t live here anymore! It’s _my_ house! You guys spend all your money on him to go to that stupid fancy school. That’s where he lives! I didn’t do anything wrong, I didn’t play a stupid part in whatever it is that happened to him! Why can’t he take care of himself? Rachel’s right, he is a coward and he abandoned his team. He just ran away like a baby. Then he thinks he can bring Quinn back here? Screw him!”

She looked down at the floor, not understanding how this was her son.

“This is his house, this will always be his house. You know the chair you’re sitting in, the one you convinced me we had to keep because it belonged to your father? Well, this is his mother’s home. There is a million and one things that make this place Elizabeth, Kurt being one of them. So, this will _always_ be his home. The place where his mom was, and his father is. Also, not that our finances are in any way shape your business but we don’t pay for Kurt to go to school at Dalton. Maybe if you want money, you could try getting a job, the things we aren’t buying for you aren’t because we’re spending it on Kurt. It’s because we haven’t exactly seen any reason to with your behavior lately. As for him being a coward… No Kurt isn’t a coward, he’s just tired and has finally had enough of the abuse that’s been thrown his way. Maybe, you should be asking yourself why your brother had to take a break? What weren’t you doing that you don’t even know the reason he left? In all this time of him being gone, most likely to give you space, I might add, you’ve never once seemed to care about why you brother fled his own home. I find that a little odd, Finn.”

“He’s not my brother,” She pursed her lips at him and her eyes squinted, “he will never be my brother.”

“It’s sad that that’s what you choose to focus on. So, he’s not your brother why are you calling Burt, Dad? Why is Burt family but Kurt not? I find it a little scary you seem to be so willing to try and take away Kurt’s family, when you know what it’s like to have so little yourself.”

It seemed her son was sick of this lecture and he was stubborn enough that he wanted to hurt Kurt even when he wasn’t there to know or personally feel it.

“You know, Mom. I’m _like_ Burt. I could be his son, I mean how do we even know Kurt is really his kid,” Carol was so still she felt like she wasn’t even breathing, “I mean, he doesn’t look like his dad, he doesn’t have anything in common with his dad. He has nothing in common with Burt. Who’s to say Miss Elizabeth didn’t have an affair? At least I get along with Burt and I do things Burt likes. I make sense, Mom.”

She was in the twilight zone that had to be it., she tentatively pinched herself., and unfortunately this was very much her reality.

“I can’t believe you would say that. I really can’t. Not only do you insult your brother, because guess what he is, but you insult my husband, who would be crushed at those accusations about him, his son and his late wife, but you had the nerve to talk ill of a dead woman, one you never really knew and someone you have no idea about how they died.”

There was silence in the room and she waited for her son to respond, when he didn’t she looked at him and shook her head, he held no remorse.

“If someone had spoken that way about your father, you’d be crushed. I gotta say kid, I have been disappointed in you before but never ashamed. I never thought I could be ashamed of you. It really hurts that you proved me wrong.”

She swiped a hand across her face and stood up.

“I can’t have this talk anymore, I can’t even look at you right now. Go upstairs to your room please. I can’t handle anymore right now. I just can’t”

She felt a physical ache as she watched her son start to march over to his room, he stopped turned to look at her and speak, and upon realizing she’d meant every word he’d slumped in on himself, he knew she really was ashamed of him.

She felt near tears as he kept walking toward his room.

Good lord, did she need a glass of wine. How was she going to talk to Burt? How could she face him with news that his step son once more hurt his child? It seemed that was a constant.

* * *

 

Both cars were parked outside the local park.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Kurt was trying to break the tension as he worked on Quinn’s cheek.  Santana had just gotten back after she’d dropped off one of the bags back at her house.

“Well, we aren’t leaving you alone, that’s for sure.” He pursed his lips and glanced at Santana.

“Okay, well that’s still not a plan, Satan.” She rolled her eyes at the nickname while Quinn snickered.

“I’d say we could go to mine, but well things are a little weird with Mom, right now. Trust me she’s a whole new level of I don’t even know what.” Kurt could understand that, Quinn’s mom had always been a little weird in the time he’d known her.

“Well, we can’t go to mine! My Abuelita is there! She even catches a glimpse of Angel face over here, we are _screwed_ and not in the fun way. I don’t think he needs any gay bashing tonight.” Also, a fair point. She was right, today had been awful enough and he would love to just put on some pajamas and curl up.

“Then I guess you guys are leaving me alone, we don’t have another option.” The girls had another silent conversation.

“What about Dalton?” He looked at the blonde like she’d lost her mind. He quickly put his hand to her forehead, hmmm no fever.

“It’s a boys only school,” he said it slowly in case they had somehow really forgotten. They both gave him matching bitch faces.

“In case you haven’t figured it out yet, you’re gay.” He returned their twin looks with a flat one of his own.

“I know that beetle brain, but in case you haven’t noticed you don’t have a penis, usually that’s a prerequisite to stay on campus, well unless you’re a guy with a vagina, in which case you are also allowed to attend.” They looked at him like he was the idiot.

“We’d be staying in your room and considering we know one of the reasons for your transfer had to do with the gay thing I don’t think they will care that we are females.”

“Just a hunch but I think they will.” He answered Santana, and she shrugged.

“It’s called bribery. Don’t worry, sweet cheeks, we won’t draw any attention to you.”

“You are aware it’s not actually a gay school right? Like, yes, there are gays around, but there are also guys who happen to prefer girls and in case you haven’t noticed you guys are _obnoxiously_ pretty girls.” They both twinkled smiles at him.

“Thank you, but I think we can figure it out, we just gotta sneak into your room fast and we will leave earlier in the morning, we’ll even get you the good coffee from the Lima Bean.” Quinn was driving a hard bargain, and even though he felt like he’d regret it, he agreed.

He’d already sold his soul to the devil in becoming their friend, might as well keep going out with a bang.

* * *

 

What a time to be alive. Quinn still doesn’t know how they managed to bribe the guard and sneak in all the way to the fourth floor where Kurt’s room was without being seen.

She was certainly happy about it though. They were piled on his bed in cozy pajamas watching Friends and laughing about too many things, shoving food in each other’s faces.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a night like this, and she doubted Santana had either.

Looking at Kurt she thought that he’d probably never had a night like this one.

That was sad, he deserved all the nights like this, where his body shook with laughter, where he got to talk shit about Ross Gellar while managing to state how’d wanted to find his lobster like Ross and Rachel.

It was great.

“Okay, but which one am I?” his question was posed around a spoonful of white chocolate raspberry truffle ice cream.

Santana and Quinn laughed.

“Is that a real question? Honey, baby, sweetheart… you’re Monica. You are so obviously Monica.”

“Quinn is right, and she’s Rachel.” That cause more laughter because oh, the irony, the painful irony of the name.

“Finn is clearly Ross, and Rachel is…” She glanced at Santana and she knew they would answer him in unison.

“Janice!” he giggled.

“I mean, you’re not wrong. Wait so does this mean I have to find my Chandler?”

“Um, yes!” he shrugged at him.

“Sounds good, wait who is Satan?”

“Um, obviously I’m a hot, smart Joey with Tits?” She looked so offended that it started up the laughter again.

That was how they fell asleep. Laughing so hard their bodies just felt so exhausted at all the emotional highs and lows of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you liked it! You guys have been super sweet so far, again sorry for the long absence. Anyway, like I said the majority of you peeps have been awesome sauce, I've received like maybe two bad emails, not even comments, about the story. So on to the questions I have for you!  
> 1\. How do you feel about Kurt and Bas having non canon talents? Because I have a feel for some. One would be a talent I wish I had and the other is one I actually have.  
> 2\. Okay, so there will be the obligatory scene where Bas hears Kurt sing for the first time and I'm having an awful time choosing thus far, would you guys want to vote or just be surprised with whatever I choose?  
> 3\. You guys mad at me? Again I am super sorry life kinda kicked my plans in the ass.  
> 4\. Also are you guys okay with Original Characters at Dalton? Like I don't want it to be only the warbler show and I'd rather Kurt start making friends outside of the warblers before he's drawn in.  
> 5\. Also I know I have more questions I just can't think of them SOOO when you guys comment I'll just ask you then.
> 
> Okay! Now I will post this chapter and go message back to all the comments I haven't yet responded to because I am the worst.  
> thank you to everyone for reading so far, even if you hate it I still appreciate the reading of it.


	5. Bash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so wheeeew. I stress wrote the heck out of this 37 page chapter. Yay for distracting yourself. So, this chapter is unbetaed because I'm sick and want a pick me up annnnd I am way too pumped about this chapter. First things first... this is a sad as fuck chapter. This is an angst filled chapter and while I know last chapter had some of you crying... I cried writing one at a very specific point. There is no Kurt and Seb meeting in this chapter. That's still a ways off, I know I'm the devil. You will meet Jourdan though! You don't meet Ambrose... but he leaves his mark heavily on this chapter. You also meet Seb's parents. There is some self- harm mentioned. I will be updating the tag to reflect sibling abuse, and self harm. I will of course have questions for you at the end of this because your answers will change how the story evolves much later on. Now... I hope you like it and I hope that because I updated faster than any of you probably thought I would, will keep you from coming at me with pitchforks and fire.... I don't like causing them pain. This is what the story told me to write so I did.   
> Also, I realize his parents seem kinda shitty but they really are in a position where they don't know what to do.

Sebastian’s face was outwardly upset. It wasn’t angry, it wasn’t sad, it wasn’t angsty because of lack of sex, it wasn’t a face that anyone would read as anything other than upset.

He was incredibly grateful that no one would see him with his eyebrows just furrowed enough to be noticeable, his mouth twisted, and his eyes pitched with sadness, so very different from the usual mischievous gleam they generally held.

There was a slump to his shoulders that he didn’t even get after a long and grueling lacrosse practice.

There was a certain amount of defeat to his body.

Thank God, it was Sunday and curfew hit in a few minutes. No Dalton boy would usually be caught coming in so late on a Sunday. Everyone knew the monitors, as nice as they were, were prone to being assholes on Sunday evenings. 

Still, when he had passed by them, they took one look at Sebastian and pretended to not see him, and left him with no comment as they continued to patrol near the entrance.

It wasn’t to say that the boys wouldn’t still be running around in the building but they tended to shy away until the doors were fully locked for the night on Sunday and Sebastian had come right on time.

He unlocked his room, a single, at the request of his very rich parents and the money they could donate.  He was so incredibly grateful for it in this moment he could have cried. As soon as he locked the door it was like a flood gate erupting, he lay his head against the door and did something he would never do in under any usual circumstance. With a grunt he threw his left fist into the side paneling by his door. He did it several more times, each bash in the door harder than the last with grunts leaving his mouth at every hit and suddenly he felt physical pain pulsing in his hand.

He carefully brought it up to his face to inspect it, bruises were already starting form, little dots of purple and black blooming across the skin, blood pooling gently in the broken skin of his knuckles.

What he hadn’t noticed was that his light had been turned on when he came in the room, and he certainly hadn’t even looked over to the bed where three of his friends sat, skin having lost any color as they saw him attempt to pummel his wall. They sat stock still waiting for him to notice them.

Sebastian licked his lips and sighed. He shouldn’t have done that… that wasn’t him. He didn’t do things like self-harm when he had emotional problems and nor did he want to.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he’d done it a few times when he was very young, before his mother and father put him in therapy.

Something, he felt was potentially going to make a comeback in his life.

At least he hadn’t hurt his right hand. That would have sucked, his right hand was his dominant hand and while his left would be in pain for a while it wouldn’t cause his too much stress in the short or long run. He could even still maneuver around in lacrosse with the small amount of damage he wrought on his hand.

He flexed his hand and didn’t even hiss at the twinge of pain, thanking God, that lacrosse was brutal enough a lot of injuries didn’t much phase him. Although, that was probably the mild amounts of adrenaline coursing through him.

Keeping his eyes on his hand, he turned around and moved further into his room, finally taking the time to let the straps of his bag slip off his shoulder and onto the floor.

He gently scratched at his neck with his right hand while he continued to assess the damage to his left.

A throat clearing startled him, and he jolted completely upright and finally noticed his friends sprawled on his bed. David was sitting with his back to the headboard, with his arms crossed tight, Hunter had a raised brow where he sat at the end of the bed, and Jeff’s eyes were large and concerned where they stared at him from the end of the bed where he lay, his feet resting in Hunter’s lap.

There was an oppressive silence filling the room, heavy and weighted. If he wasn’t Sebastian Smythe, he might have started to fidget under the intense gazes and uncomfortable air, but given who he was, he didn’t do any of those things.

His face went blank, and it was clear to the others in the room that he wasn’t going to talk about what just happened.

At least not yet.

The room’s atmosphere changed immediately as Nick entered the room, unlocking the door and throwing Sebastian for another loop, completely oblivious to anything being different as he looked at his phone and started chattering away.

“Seb, still hasn’t gotten back yet? This is getting seriously lame! He hasn’t answered any of his texts. Bitch, doesn’t even have his read receipts on. I can’t tell if he’s purposefully ignoring us.” It was at that moment he walked directly into Sebastian.

“What the he-You’re back!” the others were silent, altogether unsure about this whole situation.

“Yes, that seems to be the general consensus, Nicolas.” In turn, his friend gave him a bitch look.

“Well, sorry. We’ve been waiting for you for literal ages. Why are you just now getting back? How was the dinner? I’m assuming it went well since it took you so long to join us back on campus.” Sebastian rolled his eyes at his friend.

“I think the more important question is how you all got into my room?” Nick just gave him an offended look as he half plopped on top of Jeff’s stomach causing the boy to squirm and glare at him in annoyance.

“We’ve had a copy of your key for ages.” Sebastian blinks at the wall while shaking his head a little in disbelief.

“I don’t even know what to say to that. I’m genuinely at a loss for what to say. Look, guys, I appreciate the welcome wagon and all, but I’m tired it’s been a long day and I want to hit the hay. I don’t have it in me to party or be fun right now. So please vacate my room, stop using your key… keys? Whatever, you know what? I hope you guys use it and have the mentally scarring image of me fucking someone. Either way, please leave. I’m tired and you guys got five seconds before I’m naked. Like, I’m talking a full frontal dick situation.” He sent a wink in their direction to make it a little less tension filled.

It didn’t work.

His friends got the hint, three of his friends staring at him, like that would force him into talking. 

Nick just chattered away, completely oblivious to underlying tension that made its way back into the room.

With one last defiant look at toward them, they filed out and before long he heard the quiet snick of the door closing. To be surer, he locked the inner deadbolt in place. Only campus officials could open the dead bolt from the outside with an official skeleton key.

Fuck.

This was going to become a thing.

It was just a stupid fucking mistake with his hand. He had just… gone off like a volcano. Only there was no slow simmer that he could have foreseen, the mental place he’d been in prior to the whole explosion had been all consuming. It wouldn’t happen again and he didn’t even realize he was doing it in the first place, he would have never done it otherwise.

God, and now… those three would never let this go.

He’d have to talk about feelings… and right now, more than anything that is the last thing he wanted to deal with.

Sebastian already wasn’t great at the whole feelings things. It was... icky. He generally preferred physicality, but with a few exceptions to the rule he didn’t have too much of a tough time being emotional with other people.

Unfortunately, while those three were on the list of open communicators of whom he had… this was not something he could mentally handle and he wasn’t sure they understood that.

Their faces said they didn’t and couldn’t.

He was settled on the edge of the end of his bed, taking this all in and sending a mental prayer to whoever, that this could just be simple.

He swiped his tired face with his good hand before approaching his dresser. He squatted down to the last of the shelves, which housed all the random crap his parents deemed necessary for him to have, but he felt like was unnecessary.

Pulling it open he shuffled somethings around before looking toward the back and finding the handle to the excessive first aid kit they’d purchased for him.

For once, he felt a little grateful for the mother henning his parents bestowed on him.

He kicked the drawer back in place and walked back over to his bed. He swung one leg on it and sat it underneath him as he opened the box to riffle through it.

He was also grateful that the amount of injuries his life of sports had given him had trained him to be fairly adept at treating his own wounds.

He did a mental check of the punching he’d done and he tried to remember if he’d felt a popping sensation, he hadn’t which was a good sign that he hadn’t broken his knuckles. Still, just because he hadn’t felt or heard it, there was no guarantee that it wasn’t broken.

He mentally prepared himself for a minor onslaught of pain.

He closed his eyes and wriggled his fingers. It stung but there was no intense throbbing feeling, and he hadn’t felt an immediate rush of sharpness when he’d felt the pain in his hand originally.

He then checked the temperature of his hands and there wasn’t any discernable difference between the two.

There was bruising and some minor swelling, but even as tough as he was, and as prone to be engaging in activities that would theoretically toughen him up, he was prone to easy bruising. Hell, he’d wake up with random bruises occasionally and not even notice. There was no medical condition that accounted for it, he was just some prone to having skin like bruised like a peach even though it was more durable than some others he knew.

His parents had always said, he just fought monsters in his sleep on every blue moon.

He knew the swelling and bruises weren’t good signs but given his history he wasn’t too worried. He looked carefully and there were no sunken knuckles and the breaks in his skin seemed more from the potential friction, they were small breaks.

With another sigh of resignation, he went to test his mobility.

Each bend to his finger hurt but he _was_ able to bend each one and none of them pointed toward his thumb or any other weird directions.

He quickly, like ripping off a bandaid, made a fist. It closed normally and tightly and even though it had some pain he knew that meant there was no break.

He knew what broken bones felt like, but he still had to be sure.

Knowing his luck right now, he wouldn’t have checked, assumed everything was fine and he’d have a fucking broken knuckle or finger to explain away.

He gripped the handle of the handle of the box again, uncaring if he jostled it too much and things went flying and worked his wrist.

He was fine, just surface swelling and bruising with some small cuts from the roughness.

He could handle that.

He dug around the kit and found some alcohol pads and ripped it open before taking it too his cuts. It wasn’t pleasant and the stinging had amplified but he payed no mind to it. He wasn’t going to let anything get in there and get infected.

A yawn escaped him as he gently dabbed Neosporin on the cuts. He then carefully applied arnica balm to the bruised parts of his hand. He carefully bandaged his hand with gauze to make sure that nothing could get into the cuts while he slept.  

He had upon knowing he would be going to boarding school insisted on a mini fridge which he kept underneath his bed. He was pleased that his need for ice cold drinks kept him supplied with ice, and that he kept a squishy freezer pack in there as well. Again, his parent’s insistence had apparently paid off and he pulled it out and wrapped it up in one of the post workout towels he had and he pulled a pillow lower on the bed than was usual.

He put the first aid kit back where it belonged before stripping down to his boxer briefs.

He stood where he was for a minute. His entire body slumping in on itself. He was tired. He was more than tired and there wasn’t a word for how he felt.

Out of frustration a few tears slid down his cheek. He sighed through his nose, his eyes closed and he tried to ground himself. He could practically feel his mind compartmentalize all things it needed to.

He knew he was a wreck currently, but that was a problem for another day. He went over to his bathroom and brushed his teeth vigorously with his right hand making sure that no water came in contact with his left hand.  He didn’t need to worry about adding anymore unnecessary moisture. The last thing he needed right now was his hand becoming a breeding ground for infection. He attempted to wash his face with his one good hand before he gave up and said fuck it.

Tonight, was not the night to deal with anything. He had no energy for it. He did one last check to make sure he had really locked the dead bolt like he thought he did earlier.  He nodded when his glance over to his door confirmed that he had indeed locked it.

He rubbed one of his eyes before he went back to his bed.

He let an annoyed breath escape him as he realized he needed to get his phone to charge it. It had been dead for hours at this point.

He quickly did so putting it on the bedside table.

He pulled at the bedding to loosen it and make it all a bit more comfortable before flopping on top of it, making sure to leave some blanket readily available to be pulled over him if need be. He twisted his torso to adjust the pillow he had pulled down earlier to lay under his hand, and then grabbed the towel covered cold pack and put it on top of his hand to help with the swelling.

He then wriggled his body around as he found that comfortable sweet spot.

He knew he’d forgotten to turn off his light and he decided he didn’t care. This was weekend from hell as far as he was concerned and he was too fucked up to care about having the light on in the room, in fact he thought maybe it would be nice, a little security from any monsters that might try to come for him in his sleep.  The stinging in his eyes was too much as he laid down and water started pouring from them. But it didn’t feel like crying.

This wasn’t some emotional, cathartic release. Every tear stung more and produced more tears from then on and it felt awful and he didn’t know what was going on. He kept trying to wipe at his eyes and even tried rubbing at them in hopes that whatever was causing the tears would be moved out. It didn’t work. Eventually he stopped but he felt gross.

He settled down with a sigh, with his face having been ravaged by the salt tracks.

Others probably would have found it hard to sleep with everything that had happened but for Sebastian, even with the stinging pain in his left hand, felt sleep come all to easily.

It was as simple as settling his head onto his favorite pillow and closing his eyes.

* * *

 

He had some restless sleep.

His dreams were vivid flashes of greenery.

There was the feeling of utter joy.

A vital part of belonging.

Then came the sensation of the end.

There was screaming and everything was blurry.

Shouts and mayhem.

Crying.

So much crying.

Tears and screams slashing their way out of a throat.

And at the end so many questions and very few answers.

Far less than there should have been.

It was a pop and fissure that had broken it all down.

It was a finish.

A beginning to an end.

* * *

 

He awoke to the realization he hadn’t set his alarm the night before, and that his face felt disgustingly tight and puffy. It took a minute for the sensation of a small amount of pain from his left hand to make way to his understanding.

Ugh, he felt like he was hungover and he hadn’t even gotten to have the fun that would have caused it.

“Hey, Siri, what time is it?”

“It’s 12:30 p.m.” the male Australian voice usually made him happy but… well… fuck.

He should have been up and at em’ at 6:30 this morning getting ready, having a good breakfast.

Instead he was in bed.

He jolted a little in panic. It was motherfucking _Monday_. He was fucked. He’d missed a ton of class, already.

He debated on his options. Either way his parents would be receiving a call, because he hadn’t gone to the nurse’s office.  He was so fucked. With any luck, his Mother would just let it go and not tell his father, or she’d at least convince him this was okay. His mom would honestly probably side with Sebastian on this one, especially upon realizing he’d over slept and given she wasn’t happy about the weekend either… she’d probably just be more pissed about the whole situation.

With that thought, he flopped back onto his bed. Well, he could either go to class, and feel like shit the whole time while he pretended his life didn’t suck as hard as it did, or he could just say fuck it to the rest of the day.

Clearly, he’s was going to have make some tart au citron with the very fucked up lemons he was given.

He looked down at his body with a sigh. He was twisted in his blankets and sheets even though he’d gone to bed on top of them, He was hot and sweaty and fuck if he didn’t hate his life right now.

He groaned out loud and wondered if things would stop sucking for like a fucking second.

It was a fruitless hope, he knew that.

Things were just going to get worse.

This wasn’t one of those things with a happy ending, at least not for a while.

He closed his eyes and attempted to will himself back to sleep. It didn’t work. He felt gross. With that thought, he got up and found a clean towel.

He needed a shower, he sniffed his shoulder and pulled his face away quickly a grimace formed on his mouth.

Shit, he reeked.

He’d turn _girls_ away with that shit, let alone the gay guys with more discerning tastes.

He unbandaged his hand to see the damage and was pleased to note that the swelling had already gone down completely. There was still some mild bruising but the swelling itself was basically gone. He could see all his knuckles now and they all looked fine and none of his fingers looked any different than normal.

Well, at least something was going right.

He hadn’t expected it to be his hand.

With that thought, he turned the tap of his shower on and got in, relishing in the blissful notion of getting clean.

He felt safe and warm in this enclosed area, his shower gel made the steam smell aromatic and familiar.

It was a good feeling, and he wondered if today would be good.

Maybe it could be great and things would be better, at least for today. He didn’t have to be at home, he could be at Dalton away from all the problems.

Dalton was now officially his salvation. It was now his real home.

He sent a mental apology to his parents but surely, they understood.

And Jourdan… well, he was never home enough for it to be a real issue.

Honestly, no one should be able to judge him or have any problem with him being at home less than he already was. If they did, they knew what was to blame and they needed to recognize there wasn’t much they could do.

He wasn’t an unfair person, he understood that everyone was stuck between a rock and hard place. Between two people whom they cared for.

Even, Celeste with his dislike of Ambrose still housed love for him. She had been his stepmother long before Sebastian had come into the picture and not to say that her bond with her youngest son wouldn’t trump most things but he never expected that a person could just turn love off like a switch.

She had had her turns kissing his scraped knees, making him giggle and wiping away tears.

It would have been impossible for her to not have some semblance of love for the boy even if she did grow to dislike him for the things he did.

He understood that this was outside of his control… and maybe he was being dramatic.

Ambrose wasn’t _that_ bad.

Sure he said awful things, and he seemed to at least partially find his existence like _completely_ offensive… but that’s normal for siblings right?

Jourdan was like a sibling anomaly…

He had to be.

Sebastian knew he was fruitlessly and desperately trying to give justification for and lessen the hatred his brother felt for him in his head.

It had to all be in his head, right? Maybe everything was a misunderstanding.

Maybe the accident when they were younger was just that, an accident.

His heart and gut clenched up simultaneously at the thought.

He leaned his head against the tiles.

He wished more than anything that that was the case. It wasn’t he knew that. He would give anything to have it all be a simple nothing.

He remembered when he was younger and all the words had hit home from his brother, and he remembered after the accident how he was suddenly much more prone to injuries in sports that were easily avoidable. He also remembered that time where he and his therapist had built a bridge to healthier coping methods.

He also vividly remembers being a little overweight at the time, nothing more than baby fat, and he remembers the multitude of other unhealthy coping methods he’d taken on before that bridge had finally been built.

He remembers he would make himself small, _so_ small, sit in the corner or hide himself in the safety of his closet and he’d cry silently. He would tear into himself mentally. Every awful thing Ambrose had ever said, amplified to an even greater extreme. Every hurtful thing he could hurl at himself, he would.

If that meant telling himself he was worthless, and unlovable he did.

If it meant telling himself that the reason he was put on this earth was to suffer because he was awful he did.

He would do it until his tears ran out and he would resolve himself to be better because he was awful and people didn’t deserve people like him.

They needed him to at least try to be better, because even though he never would be, maybe trying would make them want to keep him.

Sebastian couldn’t live like that again. He couldn’t do it. He knows that, and remembering all of that all too vividly made his resolve that much greater.

No, Ambrose wasn’t that bad.

At least not to anyone else, but he was even more awful to him.

He was worse. He was worse.

The words repeated themselves over and over in his head, a mantra to hold strong.

He nodded to himself as he finished the shower, and switched gears and changed the mantra that was repeating in his head.

He was worthy.

He was loveable.

People did like him.

He didn’t need to be a better him, he was good enough as he was.

He changed into his most comfortable clothing, a sweatshirt he’d stolen from Jour, before he had left for college, leaving his little brother bereft. It was gray and light, made of fleece, worn and washed to be even softer. He also wore his favorite pair of sweats, a dark wine color his grandparents in Paris had sent him. They felt silky and cool to the touch, which he’d never found in another pair of sweatpants. He wore no socks because he was pretty sure that socks were the devil’s work.

He toweled roughly at his hair uncaring that it was going to dry sticking up in random tufts.

Sebastian threw his towel toward his hamper uncaring if it landed correctly and stripped his bed of the gross bedding and changed them, not wanting to lay on gross bedding after he felt clean.

He made a mental note to go wash them later, remembering that the third-floor laundry room would probably be open because not everyone knew that the two broken down washers had finally been fixed.

Once everything was in place he rolled onto the bed and then made quick work to open the drawer of his bedside table. He grabbed the first sketchbook that lay inside as well as his pencil bag that housed his most used products.

He was happy with the one he had grabbed, it was a hardcover with 80 lb paper, his favorite paper weight, and the best part was that it was a gray toned drawing paper. It was so fun to work with. He had a smaller version of this same sketch pad with tan toned paper that was lying around somewhere.

“Hey, Siri… turn on do not disturb.” It was absent minded but necessary.

“Okay, I turned on do not disturb.”

He opened the worn and well-loved pencil bag and rummaged through it, unsure if he was going with colored pencil or if he was going to do standard graphite. Hell, maybe it was a ballpoint pen kind of day?

His mouth went from side to side as he debated, finally settling on colored pencil. He grabbed his grayscale colors, and just went for it.

He loved drawing eyes, they were his favorite thing to draw and he used to come home from school with eyes and cityscapes doodled all over his arms in ball point pen. His mother would harp on and on about ink poisoning but it never deterred him.

He started detailing the lids and shadows, creating lashes that swooped adding flecks of light over the darker colors.

God, he loved his prismacolor colored pencils. One of the best things he owned. He continued to layer light over dark, blending the shades seamlessly, leaving only the pupil to be drawn in. He swapped the monochromatic colors for a variety of colors, blues and hints of silver, dots of amber clouding around an almost yellow color.  He stared at the pair of heterochromatic baby doll eyes he’d just drawn.

He pulled out a white gel pen and started exaggerating the highlights.

They were lovely and incredibly realistic… and not enough. He started to flesh the eyes out so it felt like the skin around the eyes was blending into and becoming he paper.

It still felt unfinished. He started adding in random flower petals falling all around the eyes, lovely lavender colored rose petals and the bottom he littered with orange blossoms.

He squinted at the drawing, these eyes belonged to someone and he couldn’t quite place it.

A knock on his door startled him, and sat shock still, almost not breathing.

“Seb?” it was David.

Sebastian said nothing and he made no noise.

“You there?”

Again, he made no movement or acknowledgement of that he was in fact there.

He stared at his door and eventually he heard a sigh and footsteps padding away.

He nearly sighed with relief but he was still tense, and uncomfortable having been taken away from his activity.

He looked down and his right hand was clenched around his pencil his thumb worrying the lacquered wood.

He bit at his lip and closed his sketchbook.

The moment felt ruined, he didn’t even know how long he’d spent working at his drawing.

He scratched at his cheek and thought how this was his _thing_. This one private thing he had.

Very few people knew of his hobby and talent and he liked it that way. It was one of those things that belonged to him and no one else. A part of him that no one could touch.

He’d spent ages with therapist Dr. Edgington before they figured art therapy suited him well, his best coping mechanism.

He’d always been an active kid, fairly hyper with a mild form of ADHD, one mild enough his parents had never medicated him, insisting they at least try other methods first. Thankfully, they had and the experiment in routines, and other changes had gone smoothly.

Given his energy, sports had always been a big part of his life, an active lifestyle had always been a way to keep his energy channeled well, but drawing, even painting, seemed to slow things down.

It was the one thing that made him focus in an entirely unique way. Everything was suddenly slow and he was completely zoned into whatever it was he was working on. Few things could break his concentration when he was drawing.

He had intended to spend more time drawing, maybe do more than one. One detailed, like the one he’d just finished and maybe some thumbnails for larger pieces. Now he felt like it was ruined. The moment of safety and quiet, of being completely in his element was gone.

He was probably being ridiculous but it honestly felt like this bright, quiet, blissful moment in all its softness had been completely broken.

He touched the velvety faux leather cover of his sketchbook before he pack his supplies away into the drawer again.

It was the only drawer that had a lock on it.

Every student was given the same bedside table and while it was small it was capable of locking should the student choose to buy a lock.

He sat on his bed and fidgeted for a moment thinking about what he could do.

He went to open his bad and pulled out his laptop and queued up Netflix after it booted up. He clicked on his name and scrolled down to find his continue watching list. He put plugged his earbuds in and glanced at the sound bar to make sure he wouldn’t have it too loud.

He went over to his drawers and taking up half of the 4th drawer from the top there lay a bunch of snacks, he grabbed a bag of white cheddar popcorn and ambled his way back and making himself comfortable as he tore the bag open.

He clicked on that’s 70’s show and proceeded to learn from the zen master.

It was probably odd his somewhat deep connection with the poor orphaned boy of the show. Anyone would have assumed he’d identify with Eric with his two fairly doting parents and pretty damn stable life. Eric was too whiny though and while Sebastian could be arrogant and spoiled, he never took it for granted.

He could come across that way, good god could he. But he really was thankful for everything he got, his mother and father had him volunteering at a very early age. He’d done lots of charity work at this point and he’d seen more than people would ever assume.

Others might assume he’d identify with Kelso if only for the casual arrogance, but he wasn’t nearly self-involved enough, not really, nor was he lacking so deeply in the way of smarts.

No, he was Hyde, street smart, cunning, and a little broken. He cared too much and he’d do anything to hide it. His parents loved him the way the foreman’s ended up loving Hyde.

He’d always felt a deep connection with the pot smoking rebel of the show, even when he’d watched it as a kid on TV.

It was probably his favorite show and one of his favorite things to watch to unwind, he’d even have it playing in the background while he was doing homework. It was good for background noise.

He clambered under his blanket and slouched into his pillow, shoved popcorn into his waiting mouth as he watched one of his favorite episodes, _Cat Fight Club_ , and proceeded to listen intently to the rules of Zen that, at this point, he’d memorized.

* * *

 

Celeste was a rational woman, incredibly emotional but in her angriest moments she tended to err on the rational side. She tended to be calm and collected and she hated it if she felt anything different.

She would admit that she obviously had her flares of anger and with a single look or a raised word she would have people scared of her. Still, for the most part she aimed to always be rational. Even in gut wrenching moments she liked to feel somewhat in control.

She had been raised with the belief that the only people allowed to raise their voice to her were her parents. If anyone else decided they had the right, she wouldn’t yell back, she’d always raise an eyebrow, correct them and make sure that they knew she was not one to be yelled at.

She had walked out of the room she had just been in with her husband to calm down.

She was furious.

She rarely ever felt this kind of anger. This situation involving family was not something she enjoyed and she constantly felt torn.

She was also tired of feeling helpless. She was tired of her husband making her feel like a villain in these moments because he would rather wear rose colored glasses than see the cracks in the surface.

God, she couldn’t even enjoy having her petite June bug in the house…

She’d missed Jourdan so much, and with Sebastian at boarding school most days, she wanted to see them.

She finally gets him to come home for a visit, and Ambrose had to decide to come too.

It was his fault.

Normally, she hated when an adult blamed a child, but he wasn’t a kid anymore, he hadn’t been for some time now.

She loved Ambrose, she did. She would never forget the first time she saw his little face, one that melted her heart. Those big brown eyes, he was the spitting image of his father.

He’d been so sweet, a cuddler who had taken to her rather well considering how shy he’d been. He’d always been such a nice boy, and so very responsible. He’d wanted nothing more than to be like his father, Alby. When Celeste had fallen pregnant, he’d been nervous and protective, both unsure of his place with Celeste not being his Mother and knowing the baby would be living with his father full time when he didn’t.

But he’d also been excited to be a big brother and he’d obviously fallen in love with Jourdan the second he was born.

It was clear that Jourdan would look like his mother, just with the coloring of their father. The same Hazel color proving their brotherhood, he dark blonde hair declaring their blood connection.

He’d been in awe of the tiny human, and his eyes so wide had gone to look each of them before he whispered a question that had made Celeste’s heart swell with more love than she’d thought possible.

“Mine?”

Both of the adults had smiled, it was not a grossly possessive question, it was the hopeful joy of a child who was asking if they all belonged to each other and in that moment post birthing she’d started crying and she smiled as wide as can be and she had told him yes. He’d bitten his little lip and told his little brother he’d love him forever, that he was his big brother and he’d teach him all the important things.

He’d sworn he’d be the best big brother ever.

He’d been all the happier when he found out about Sebastian, every time he came to be with them he’d talk to Jourdan and they would puff up and “protect” Celeste and the baby from any “dangers”.

It had been the cutest thing and the sweetest.

One time she had happened upon them talking and Jourdan had been so nervous about the new baby because what if they hated it? What if he didn’t love the baby? Ambrose had never been more sure sounding when he told his little brother that he would. That he was sure that they would love the baby more than anyone else, because he loved Jourdan more than anyone else. He’d told Jourdan he’d done this before with him, and that he knew Jourdan would feel the same way.

It had warmed her heart so thoroughly. She’d brought out the scrapbooks and she brought them close to her on the couch and showed them their baby pictures and they’d thought it was so cool and they were so happy.

She remembers every time she fell in love with that little face as it beamed up at her.

Sometime later she would fall in love with another little face, coloring slightly different, but there was no doubt that Sebastian looked oh so much like his eldest brother. The spitting image of that same baby face in all those pictures she’d shown the boys.

She remembers Jourdan even saying so, he had been just as excited as Ambrose had told him he would be.  So eager and happy, she can recall that conversation they had, the first words between them post birth.

“What’s his name, Momma?”

“Sebastian.”

“Sebashun.” She’d laughed, it was certainly cute the way he screwed up the name. He’d scrunched up his face and shook his head before bending down and kissing the baby’s forehead.

“Hi, Bash. I’m your big brother. I’m gonna be your best friend.”

Her heart melted at the nickname that would become much more apt as the baby grew up.

When she looked to smile at Ambrose, her new born held against her, she didn’t see the same little boy who’d been so hopeful and in love with Jourdan.

She saw a pale face that seemed almost gutted.

It was like looking at Sebastian and Jourdan was hurting him.

Her own smile had faltered a bit at that, but she felt it was probably just sibling rivalry. She supposed he just wasn’t ready to share Jourdan, he’d never really had to so why would he have even thought about it?

She figured it would resolve itself and wanted to let him move at his own pace with it.

But it seemed that no matter what she did, his dislike of Sebastian just grew and grew until it reached a fracture point when the accident occurred.

Her husband insisted that it was just that, an accident. Jourdan, although he’d been there when it happened hadn’t seen anything. Had only seen the aftermath. Ambrose himself, declared himself innocent and that it had been an accident.

Celeste knew it wasn’t an accident, the way Sebastian would flinch away every time Ambrose was near him, and the way he would get quiet and shy and clutch at her a little more than usual, the fear his eyes would hold and how his mouth would sometimes tremble or his eyes would water… it all told her it hadn’t been an accident.

Sebastian had always been resilient even as a kid, and had it really been an accident there was no doubt in her mind that he’d have been jumping at the chance to be around Ambrose as much as he was with Jourdan.

Sebastian hadn’t seen Ambrose in a while. Rare events occurred to make their visits with each other as brief as possible at her insistence. Though there would always be the aftermath her other children had to deal with because of the actions of their eldest brother.

This visit was causing some serious amounts of damage.

The phone call and email she’d received from Dalton was telling her how fast this could all spiral.

She wasn’t angry with Sebastian. She understood but she was resigned to the fact that everything from here on out was going to be difficult.

She exited out of her email and walked back to be with her husband.

“You aren’t going to punish him.”

He turned to look at her.

“No. I’m not. Do I think it’s acceptable that he’s skipping class? No, but I also know he’s upset and if this helps to prevent him from going off the rails I’m certainly not going to do anything to stop it. Don’t look at me like that Celeste. I’m trying, here. I love him. I love _all_ of them. None of this is exactly easy for me. I don’t know what to do.”

She sighed. He was right, he wasn’t a bad father. He certainly had his moments of being bad at being a father, but she supposed that was normal for any parent. No one was perfect.

“I don’t know either, Alby. What I do know is that you could have at least gotten on your adult son for antagonizing your teenager at dinner the other night,” he gave her a look, “Or perhaps warned any of us that about this decision?”

He said nothing just stared at the floor below him.

“Generally, things like this are a discussion between partners.” He looked up at her.

“What am I supposed to do, Celeste? They are both my sons. Do I turn one away because of another? How do I balance this? If you know please tell me, because I’m tired of running around blind on this one. I love them. I know you think I purposely don’t see it…”

She said nothing, he looked so crestfallen as he shook his head.

“I do, I’m not blind. I’m not happy about it. I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix it, or even if I can.” He slumped in on himself and she felt awful for him.

He was right, how do you fix a problem like this one?

“Did Bash do something because Ambrose is moving back to the house? Is he okay?” they both turned toward their son, Jourdan stood there, unfortunately always put in the middle of his brothers.

“He skipped classes, JuneBug. It’s not a big deal. I will go and speak with him.”

Jourdan frowned at his mom.

“Mom, I really don’t think you can do or say anything to fix this one. Plus, not to be offensive, but do you really think Bash wants his friends seeing his “Mommy” coming to the school? I kinda think that’s the opposite of what he needs.”

She stared at her first born, the tall masculinized version of herself stared back at her. He looked tired, not only had he had all that traveling but… that dinner had certainly left everyone tired.

A length of fur gliding across her legs firmly broke her out of her thoughts. She looked down Sebastian’s cat, a fat, well-loved orange and white tabby named Rajah. He was ridiculously cute even in his older age, and he knew it.

Celeste sighed and bent down to pet the feline that demanded attention.

Jourdan was right… but what else could she do?

She was running out of options and they did need to figure things out with him, at least do a quick check on him.

“What would you have me do, instead? I understand your thinking. I do,” she winced, she had a feeling that some of the Parisian quirks in her language were going to be coming out in her speech soon, it always happened when she got stressed, “But, I need a solution, and unless you can give me one…. Well, he’ll be seeing me tonight.”

Jourdan licked his bottom lip and nodded, as he toed at the edge where the carpet met the hardwood flooring.

“I’ll go. He doesn’t see me enough anyway, and you guys put me on the list of people who are allowed to pull him out right? I’ll come across as less… intense. I think Baby Bash is feeling enough intensity right now.”

She made eye contact with Alby, and had a silent conversation before nodding to her son.

“Alright. Go see how he’s doing.” She waved at her eldest as he left.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do, my love. But,” she waved around the room like it was the situation they were facing, “this is not good.”

Her husband looked worn.

“I know. I don’t know what to do. There is no easy fix.”

“Non. There is not.”

* * *

 

There was a firm knocking at his door that Sebastian heard just over the sound of his show. He pressed pause and waited.

Three more firm knocks.

“Bash, I know you’re here, I checked the parking lot and saw your car.”

Sebastian was confused, Jour never name to the campus, but he still made his way over to the door. He unlocked the standard lock as well at the inner deadbolt, and opened the door.

Jourdan looked at him for a moment before snorting.

“You look like a little kid, what is up with your hair?” the light teasing was welcome and his brother pushed his hands into his hair and ruffled it before clearly trying to make it look a little more presentable.

He tried to pull away and grump at him but he knew it was impossible before he even tried. Jourdan was an adult and Sebastian was still a teenager, still growing into his body while Jour was heavily muscled and even taller than Sebastian. He wasn’t exactly short himself, but he was still growing and changing in ways Jour already had.

“What are you doing here?” the question earned him a flat facial expression before it gave way to an evil grin and suddenly Jourdan was tickling Sebastian so much so they ended up in his room and Sebastian wouldn’t even begin to explain how.

“I am obviously checking on you Baby Bash. Mom is worried about you to say the least. I learned of your ditching ways and have come to rescue you from the dreary walls of your room and the sad solitude you’re inflicting upon yourself.”

He managed to free himself from his older brother’s grasp and he just pouted and glared at the smiling face that didn’t even waver at either of those things. In fact his grin just got wider and he wiggled his eyebrows at him.

“Go get dressed in real clothes baby brother. We got plans, and you are currently ruining them by not being dressed.”

Sebastian was simultaneously excited and suspicious.

“Plans? To do what?” Jourdan shrugged at the question and made himself more comfortable on the bed.

“Get dressed and find out.” Sebastian made a face but did as he was told. He opened his dresser and shuffled out of his sweats uncaring that his brother was in the room. Jourdan wolf whistled in jest and Sebastian paused before giving a butt wiggle to play along before he got serious.

“Is mom really upset?” Sebastian worried his lower lip between his teeth as he put his shirt back on.

“That is a terribly dumb question, Baby Bash.” Jourdan must have noticed his face flood with guilt.

“She isn’t upset with you, she doesn’t blame you for anything. Neither does Dad.”

He shrugged, and grabbed his wallet.

“Let’s go.” Jourdan gave him a sweeping once over, clearly trying to gauge his little brother.

“What the hell happened to your hand? I just saw you yesterday, you were fine!” His brother’s voice was a demand, and his face was fierce. Sebastian shrugged.

“No, what happened, Sebastian?” It was a rarity for Jourdan to call him by his full first name, and he knew that he was in serious older brother mode.

“It’s nothing.” Jourdan looked at him and his face dropped. He knew Jourdan got the message.

“Bash…” His voice was filled with pain.

“I was overwhelmed. I didn’t mean to. It won’t happen again. I swear. Jour, it isn’t exactly what you think.”

There was a pause as Jourdan searched his face for reassurance, he must have gotten it because his shoulders lowered and he nodded.

“Okay… next time call me, would you?”

He nodded and they started toward the door before Sebastian paused.

“Wait… are you even allowed to sign me out?” Jourdan rolled his eyes.

“Of course, I am.” There was another pause.

“…Is anyone else authorized to sign me out?”

Jourdan looked at him carefully and he understood what he wasn’t saying.

“No, Bash. Ams isn’t on the list.” He nodded at his older brother and they left his room.

* * *

 

“La Maison.” Jourdan looked at him and nodded at the French eatery they sat outside of.

“I figured you could use a few macarons. I know they’re your favorite. Don’t worry I brought some Courvoisier to brighten up your coffee.” It was said with a wink and Sebastian felt an overwhelming amount of love for his older brother.

“Thank you.” They stepped out and Sebastian ordered the macarons and coffee as predicted but he knew his stomach would demand food soon as he hadn’t yet eaten any substantial, so he ordered the Paris omelet as well.

When they sat down, coffees in hand Jourdan carefully dribbled the liquor into Sebastian’s drink, making sure there wasn’t a chance of getting caught.

“So, how are you really?”

“I think you know the answer to that Jour.”

“Come on, it won’t be that bad.” Sebastian glared at him with no real heat.

“Easy for you to say. You won’t even be here, and he actually likes you. I’m the one he hates.” Jourdan’s eyes softened at that, he could hear the emotions that were stirred up within his little brother. There was a sad, bitter resignation in his voice. Hurt, was the main thing though. Sebastian had never handled his older brother’s rejection well, and he’d never been able to keep it from getting through his defenses and hurting him further.

He’d never been able to stop it, even if he tried to be over it, he never would. Jourdan never understood the problems between the two. He was well loved by both. He tended to side with Sebastian though, because at the end of the day he’d never done anything but love and try to please Ambrose. He’d just somehow never made it happen. He’d never be able to side with Ambrose on the subject, he was supposed to be older and wiser, protective and mentor the little ones. He had done it with Jourdan, and Bash was the baby. Jourdan had certainly taken to his role with a stride like they had all thought Ambrose would have, and in the end Sebastian had proven to be his shadow doing his best to be a mini me of his older brother.

“He doesn’t hate you.” He looked at his brother and he knew Jourdan saw that all his walls were down and could see how much he knew that Ambrose hated him.

“Yes, he does. Even if we discard the accident, you can’t say dinner didn’t prove that. He wants me to _hurt_.”

They both sat silent as they recalled the dinner.

It was true. Ambrose had purposely sent dig after dig at Sebastian.

Nothing was off limits.

His sexuality.

His friends.

Him being irresponsible.

Him being scrawny.

Him being spoiled.

His cat.

His personality.

The sports he played.

The glee club he was in.

His manners.

His speech.

He was dramatic. He was a brat. He was spoiled. He was treated better. He was this, he was that.

Every part of who he was, had become something to attack.

They were subtle attacks too. Insults had flown yes, but they’d all been carefully used, strategized enough to hurt and always more than enough to make him second guess himself. It was a subtle and manipulative sort of emotional and mental abuse and Sebastian had felt all but five years old again.

He was five with his oldest brother whispering in his ear about how he was awful, stupid and no one loved him.

He was five years old and his oldest brother would make him stay quiet and pinch him hard enough to bruise on his arms and legs.

He was five and he never told on him.

He was five years old and his older brother hated him.

He was five and Ambrose would make him cry on purpose.

He was five years old and he was scared and just wanted to be better and he wanted Ambrose to love him.

He was five and nobody saw what happened.

Meanwhile he was really a teenager sitting at a dinner table with his adult brothers and parents.

Their mother had thrown looks at her husband who had pretended that nothing was wrong.

Subtle as the digs were, they were there, and Sebastian had grown all the more somber and quiet as the dinner went on. Glassy eyes suggesting he was attempting to zone out and distance himself from reality.

Everyone knew she wasn’t sure how to handle Ambrose. He wasn’t her son, could she discipline him? He was an adult; did she have the right to tell him act like one? This was technically his home too, this was his father.

It had all come to a head when Ambrose announced that he would be interning with his father and he was moving back home.

They had all stayed the night in house. They’d been forced to all spend the next day together, where Jourdan had done his best to buffer them more intensely then he had at dinner. It had been enough that Sebastian had just stayed as closed off as possible, Ambrose had been unhappy being in his baby brother’s presence and Jourdan had been run ragged.

“…I’m sorry.” He looked at his older brother. It was lined with tiredness and sadness. He could see the honestly of his statement.

He felt his own face crumble in on itself. He wouldn’t cry.

He wouldn’t cry.

He wouldn’t cry.

There was a moment of silence, Sebastian picking at his food with his fork, focused on not crying.

Without meeting his brother’s face, he asked him very quietly,

“What did I do? Why does he hate me? I don’t understand what I did. I’d fix it if I knew, I would. I promise.”

Jourdan had never in his life felt his heart break so thoroughly. His little brother hadn’t seemed so small in ages.

“Nothing,” he said it so firmly, that it couldn’t be argued, “You did nothing. There is nothing wrong with you. I _swear_ , you did nothing wrong. _Nothing_.”

Sebastian shook his head and wouldn’t look up at Jourdan as a lone tear fell.

“I don’t understand.”

Jourdan moved closer to his brother and pulled him into a bone crushing hug and just held Sebastian as tightly to him as he could.

“I know. I don’t either. But it isn’t your fault. I _love_ you.” Sebastian nodded and he could feel some tears seeping into his brothers shirt.

“You’re good, Bash. You’ve always been good. We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

Sebastian wanted desperately to believe him, but he couldn’t. He never wanted to disappoint his brother though, so he nodded again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... you've finished the chapter.... don't kill me?   
> Did you cry? I cried.  
> Now.... How do you all feel about this story eventually having sex in it? because I do see them having sex but like I don't know how you all feel about it? It's one of the reasons I didn't rate the story because frankly I feel like it's constantly on the verge of changing.   
> Also, how do you guys feel about getting to know each other? If you guys want to I'll have a question at the end of each chapter to do so, as well as my answer.  
> So let's start it off, what are your favorite colors? Mine are lavender, Lilac, grey and green. I adore those colors. I have like 10 nail polishes, all different brands mind you in the exact same shade of lilac. It's a little ridiculous.   
> Alsooooooo, I've decided I'm not gonna stick to pop culture of the times in the story... there is too many great things about now that I don't want to take away from them?? Like it would be different if the story was set in the 70s or something but lets be real we live in a time of CONSTANT technological advancement. We did then too. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.  
> Originally I was going to have a full flashback to the dinner... but well... I thought it would be too much for me to write for this chapter in terms of feelings. It'll probably happen at some point and if not there will certainly be things that come back from it to haunt them all.


	6. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an Authors's note!

Hey so obviously this is an Author’s note…. Which I never wanted to do but I feel like you guys deserve an update and I promise that when it comes time to post the next chapter I will delete this. Pinky promise guys.

**Alright so no need to worry about this never getting updated that’s not in the cards I promise I am not already abandoning the fic… but it has been a while since the last update so let us get updated in what’s going on with my life…. Which is you don’t care please feel free to skip down to what’s going on with the fic.**

Okay so, I moved states and this is my first apartment and things have been crazy hectic also the day I moved there was a bombing in London…. Which if you guys weren’t aware of the fact my older sister is currently there and she was also there at the time. She also had a broken phone and no way of telling us she was okay. Which, was a nightmare, let me tell you. So we are driving several hours not knowing if she’s okay and not knowing when we'll find out if she is okay.  BTW she is very much okay. Now my roommate and I had people staying in our new apartment over the summer because it was going to be ready before we got there… one of them is a friend of ours and they are lovely people and they weren’t even there all the time because they were working so much plus they are great at keeping clean, they had my room for the summer and… that was the only room that wasn’t trashed when I got there. The carpets were disgusting and the other human had so much trash and acted like I was invading on him and his space. It was awful. He was also incredibly aggressive when talking to my actual roommate. like … to the point that she didn’t want to come back to the state and go to school because she really didn’t think she could handle dealing with him. The dude was rude to me and my lovely friend because he didn’t like them…. It was shitty. Anyway, the day after I get there has people come stay the night… didn’t even give me warning and they are super loud and it’s late and I have a sensory sensitivity issue. I WAS SUPER NICE TO THEM I PROMISE. It just irked me that I felt so invasive in my own home. Anyway so my actual roommate’s dad decided he was going to get him to leave a little early because no one was happy or comfortable.

So Papa QB comes in and is like I am willing to help you I want to be fair… because did I tell you? Shitty dude bro failed at getting another apartment like he was supposed to… nevermind that I tried helping him get a place on three separate occasions annnnnd his father tried helping too. Anyway so Papa QB is being super fair and generous was even willing to help the guy pay his first month’s rent, but before he did this he sent dbag and email and was like look i’m uncomfortable for XY and Z reasons…. I understand that this isn’t an easy position to be in but I am willing to help you etc. Dbag is pissed and yelling and like almost breaks his phone and is slamming doors and I am standing there in my 5’4 glory quietly trying to make my dinner when he’s flipping his shit kind of at me. Now, I am not an easily intimidated person by any means but I am alone in this how he’s being very aggressive and he’s got height and weight on me and a certain amount of strength. Like, i’m not dumb, he nearly crushed his phone in his hand and he’s being all Scooby-Doo villain and talking about how, “We’re gonna have problems, Old man.” ummmm, no.

So, I being not in the mood to get hurt went to my room and locked myself in there because none of my friends could come get me and I wasn’t on the lease yet so I just barricaded myself in there. I avoided the place like at all costs for a few days until Papa QB comes and then welp what do you know DBag is a kicked puppy… all compliant in the face of a male figure. So, things are looking up, my best friend shows up and she and I are all happy because yay our own apartment and yay things are awesome etc etc…. Then he has his Dad call Papa QB and he’s like He’s not leaving and this, this, and this. J and I are upset to say the least like it was a nightmare that does get resolved but I legit don’t stay there the nights he finally gets his shit out. Like he spent his time trying to intimidate and manipulate us the whole time but as soon as another dude was around… ugh anyway… so we started school literally the next day…. You would think the craziness would be over right?? WRONG.

So my school’s finaid thing tried to fuck me over and I almost couldn’t go anymore… which yes I am currently attending it just took them like 4 weeks to fix their mistake. We had to furnish the apartment and get all of our shit out of the apartment and have it professionally cleaned because it was that bad. Also, just in case anyone is thinking im rich here… hell no. I am poor latina and I have always been a poor latina with the aspirations of being a more than comfortable Latina living her damn life. We got dbag to pay for the cleaning. Anyway I’m looking for a new job to pay rent, I gotta buy groceries I am trying to get the school thing worked out… things were hectic. To this day we still aren’t all the way unpacked like things are fucking all over the place it’s a nightmare and then roommate got a fucking viral infection and I got a bacterial infection at the same time…. Life has been a rollercoaster my friends.

Also boyfriend and I maybe over? I wouldn’t fucking know because we haven’t even talked in 16 days and I feel ghosted. I feel ghosted by my long term boyfriend. Also wanna know something uncomfortable??? In my four hour class seating was just a little pear shaped and I ended up sitting next to this guy i’ve never seen before… deadass he looked like a hotter version of my first love and i’m 90% sure he has the same name and if I didn’t know that my first love was still living in Colorado… I'dda been like ummmmm???? Anyway I posted this situation to my snapchat story and who sees it???? But? doesn't?? say???a???? damn????? WORD????? Boyfriend. bOYfrieNd sees it. Doesn’t say a damn thing. So he got time to be on snap but no time to talk to me in 16 days and fucking leave me on read for too damn long. Like wtf???? Sorry for that random tidbit.

 **As for the story…** so either dbag stole my notebook of I am just losing myself and everything I own in the mess that in my apartment but I cannot find my pink notebook… which had the outline of this whole fic… so, I have to right a whole new outline and hope I remember everything because honestly I wanted to start writing it tonight… that isn’t going to happen and I have a very long school day tomorrow. It’s a lot. I feel like everything is a lot. And I am very overwhelmed but I am working on it. I promise that I won’t give up in this story I want it to continue and I have PLANNNNNNSSSSS to continue and try and make a good story. Like one that ends up being a fic that people legit recommend. So sorry for being a shitty human and here is a surprisingly, long story short that you just read about wtf is going on with me. Sorry for the let down guys. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so that's chapter one.... maybe the only chapter if you all hate it. I don't know. Let me know.


End file.
